Editors’ Note: In Southeast Asia, democratization went hand in hand with Islamization, writes Shadi Hamid. So where many assume that democracy can’t exist with Islamism, it is more likely the opposite. The Aspen Institute originally published this post.

In both theory and practice, Islam has proven to be resistant to secularization, even (or particularly) in countries like Turkey and Tunisia where attempts to privatize Islam have been most vigorous. If Islam is exceptional in its relationship to politics — as I argue it is in my new book Islamic Exceptionalism — then what exactly does that mean in practice?

As Western small-l or “classical” liberals, we don’t have to like or approve of Islam’s prominent place in politics, but we do have to accept life as it is actually lived and religion as it is actually practiced in the Middle East and beyond. What form, though, should that “acceptance” take?

If Islam is exceptional in its relationship to politics ... then what exactly does that mean in practice?

First, where the two are in tension, it means prioritizing democracy over liberalism. In other words, there’s no real way to force people to be liberal or secular if that’s not who they are or what they want to be. To do so would suggest a patronizing and paternalistic approach to the Middle East — one that President Barack Obama and other senior U.S. officials, and not just those on the right, have repeatedly expressed. If our own liberalism as Americans is context-bound (we grew up in a liberal democratic society), then of course Egyptians, Jordanians or Pakistanis will similarly be products of their own contexts.

One should be suspicious of “models” of any kind, since models, such as Turkey’s, tend to disappoint. That said, there are good examples outside of the Middle East that deserve a closer look. Indonesia and to a lesser extent Malaysia are often held up as models of democracy, pluralism, and tolerance. Yet, perhaps paradoxically, these two countries feature significantly more shariah ordinances than, say, Egypt, Tunisia or Morocco.

In one article, the Indonesia scholar Robin Bush documents some of the shariah by-laws implemented in the country’s more conservative regions. They include requiring civil servants and students to wear “Muslim clothing,” requiring women to wear the headscarf to receive local government services, and requiring demonstrations of Quranic reading ability to be admitted to university or to receive a marriage license. But there’s a catch. According to a study by the Jakarta-based Wahid Institute, most of these regulations have come from officials of ostensibly secular parties like Golkar. How is this possible? The implementation of shariah is part of a mainstream discourse that cuts across ideological and party lines. That suggests that Islamism is not necessarily about Islamists but is about a broader population that is open to Islam playing a central role in law and governance.

Islamists need secularists and secularists need Islamists. But in Indonesia and Malaysia, there was a stronger “middle.”

In sum, it wasn’t that religion was less of a “problem” in Indonesia and Malaysia; it’s that the solutions were more readily available. Islam might have still been exceptional, but the political system was more interested in accommodating this reality than in suppressing it. There wasn’t an entrenched secular elite in the same way there was in many Arab countries. Meanwhile, Islamist parties were not as strong, so polarization wasn’t as deep and destabilizing. Islamism wasn’t the province of one party, but of most. In a sense, Islamists need secularists and secularists need Islamists. But in Indonesia and Malaysia, there was a stronger “middle,” and that middle had settled around a relatively uncontroversial conservative consensus.

In Southeast Asia, then, democratization went hand in hand with Islamization. To put it more simply, where many assume that democracy can’t exist with Islamism, it is more likely the opposite. What distinguishes Indonesia and Malaysia, as well as their electorates, isn’t some readiness to embrace the gradual privatization of religion. The difference is that their brand of Islamic politics garners much less attention in the West, in part because they aren’t seen as strategically vital and, perhaps more importantly, because the passage of Islamic legislation is simply less controversial domestically. There has been a coming to terms with Islam’s role in public life, where in much of the Middle East, there hasn’t — at least not yet.

Authors

]]>
Thu, 07 Jul 2016 11:29:00 -0400Shadi Hamid
Editors’ Note: In Southeast Asia, democratization went hand in hand with Islamization, writes Shadi Hamid. So where many assume that democracy can’t exist with Islamism, it is more likely the opposite. The Aspen Institute originally published this post.
In both theory and practice, Islam has proven to be resistant to secularization, even (or particularly) in countries like Turkey and Tunisia where attempts to privatize Islam have been most vigorous. If Islam is exceptional in its relationship to politics — as I argue it is in my new book Islamic Exceptionalism — then what exactly does that mean in practice?
As Western small-l or “classical” liberals, we don’t have to like or approve of Islam’s prominent place in politics, but we do have to accept life as it is actually lived and religion as it is actually practiced in the Middle East and beyond. What form, though, should that “acceptance” take?
If Islam is exceptional in its relationship to politics ... then what exactly does that mean in practice?
First, where the two are in tension, it means prioritizing democracy over liberalism. In other words, there’s no real way to force people to be liberal or secular if that’s not who they are or what they want to be. To do so would suggest a patronizing and paternalistic approach to the Middle East — one that President Barack Obama and other senior U.S. officials, and not just those on the right, have repeatedly expressed. If our own liberalism as Americans is context-bound (we grew up in a liberal democratic society), then of course Egyptians, Jordanians or Pakistanis will similarly be products of their own contexts.
One should be suspicious of “models” of any kind, since models, such as Turkey’s, tend to disappoint. That said, there are good examples outside of the Middle East that deserve a closer look. Indonesia and to a lesser extent Malaysia are often held up as models of democracy, pluralism, and tolerance. Yet, perhaps paradoxically, these two countries feature significantly more shariah ordinances than, say, Egypt, Tunisia or Morocco.
In one article, the Indonesia scholar Robin Bush documents some of the shariah by-laws implemented in the country’s more conservative regions. They include requiring civil servants and students to wear “Muslim clothing,” requiring women to wear the headscarf to receive local government services, and requiring demonstrations of Quranic reading ability to be admitted to university or to receive a marriage license. But there’s a catch. According to a study by the Jakarta-based Wahid Institute, most of these regulations have come from officials of ostensibly secular parties like Golkar. How is this possible? The implementation of shariah is part of a mainstream discourse that cuts across ideological and party lines. That suggests that Islamism is not necessarily about Islamists but is about a broader population that is open to Islam playing a central role in law and governance.
Islamists need secularists and secularists need Islamists. But in Indonesia and Malaysia, there was a stronger “middle.”
In sum, it wasn’t that religion was less of a “problem” in Indonesia and Malaysia; it’s that the solutions were more readily available. Islam might have still been exceptional, but the political system was more interested in accommodating this reality than in suppressing it. There wasn’t an entrenched secular elite in the same way there was in many Arab countries. Meanwhile, Islamist parties were not as strong, so polarization wasn’t as deep and destabilizing. Islamism wasn’t the province of one party, but of most. In a sense, Islamists need secularists and secularists need Islamists. But in Indonesia and Malaysia, there was a ... Editors’ Note: In Southeast Asia, democratization went hand in hand with Islamization, writes Shadi Hamid. So where many assume that democracy can’t exist with Islamism, it is more likely the opposite. The Aspen Institute originally ...

Editors’ Note: In Southeast Asia, democratization went hand in hand with Islamization, writes Shadi Hamid. So where many assume that democracy can’t exist with Islamism, it is more likely the opposite. The Aspen Institute originally published this post.

In both theory and practice, Islam has proven to be resistant to secularization, even (or particularly) in countries like Turkey and Tunisia where attempts to privatize Islam have been most vigorous. If Islam is exceptional in its relationship to politics — as I argue it is in my new book Islamic Exceptionalism — then what exactly does that mean in practice?

As Western small-l or “classical” liberals, we don’t have to like or approve of Islam’s prominent place in politics, but we do have to accept life as it is actually lived and religion as it is actually practiced in the Middle East and beyond. What form, though, should that “acceptance” take?

If Islam is exceptional in its relationship to politics ... then what exactly does that mean in practice?

First, where the two are in tension, it means prioritizing democracy over liberalism. In other words, there’s no real way to force people to be liberal or secular if that’s not who they are or what they want to be. To do so would suggest a patronizing and paternalistic approach to the Middle East — one that President Barack Obama and other senior U.S. officials, and not just those on the right, have repeatedly expressed. If our own liberalism as Americans is context-bound (we grew up in a liberal democratic society), then of course Egyptians, Jordanians or Pakistanis will similarly be products of their own contexts.

One should be suspicious of “models” of any kind, since models, such as Turkey’s, tend to disappoint. That said, there are good examples outside of the Middle East that deserve a closer look. Indonesia and to a lesser extent Malaysia are often held up as models of democracy, pluralism, and tolerance. Yet, perhaps paradoxically, these two countries feature significantly more shariah ordinances than, say, Egypt, Tunisia or Morocco.

In one article, the Indonesia scholar Robin Bush documents some of the shariah by-laws implemented in the country’s more conservative regions. They include requiring civil servants and students to wear “Muslim clothing,” requiring women to wear the headscarf to receive local government services, and requiring demonstrations of Quranic reading ability to be admitted to university or to receive a marriage license. But there’s a catch. According to a study by the Jakarta-based Wahid Institute, most of these regulations have come from officials of ostensibly secular parties like Golkar. How is this possible? The implementation of shariah is part of a mainstream discourse that cuts across ideological and party lines. That suggests that Islamism is not necessarily about Islamists but is about a broader population that is open to Islam playing a central role in law and governance.

Islamists need secularists and secularists need Islamists. But in Indonesia and Malaysia, there was a stronger “middle.”

In sum, it wasn’t that religion was less of a “problem” in Indonesia and Malaysia; it’s that the solutions were more readily available. Islam might have still been exceptional, but the political system was more interested in accommodating this reality than in suppressing it. There wasn’t an entrenched secular elite in the same way there was in many Arab countries. Meanwhile, Islamist parties were not as strong, so polarization wasn’t as deep and destabilizing. Islamism wasn’t the province of one party, but of most. In a sense, Islamists need secularists and secularists need Islamists. But in Indonesia and Malaysia, there was a stronger “middle,” and that middle had settled around a relatively uncontroversial conservative consensus.

In Southeast Asia, then, democratization went hand in hand with Islamization. To put it more simply, where many assume that democracy can’t exist with Islamism, it is more likely the opposite. What distinguishes Indonesia and Malaysia, as well as their electorates, isn’t some readiness to embrace the gradual privatization of religion. The difference is that their brand of Islamic politics garners much less attention in the West, in part because they aren’t seen as strategically vital and, perhaps more importantly, because the passage of Islamic legislation is simply less controversial domestically. There has been a coming to terms with Islam’s role in public life, where in much of the Middle East, there hasn’t — at least not yet.

While the spread of democracy over the last three decades has inspired hope for an international liberal order, recent shifting power balances and democratic backsliding are shaking this foundation. In his new book, Brookings Institution Senior Fellow Ted Piccone discusses how five pivotal countries—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—could play a critical role as examples and supporters of liberal ideas and practices.

Mr. Piccone, Hardeep Singh Puri, former Ambassador of India to the U.N. and Secretary General of the Independent Commission on Multilateralism, and Antonio de Aguiar Patriota, Ambassador of Brazil to the U.N. and former Minister of External Relations, discuss the ways in which these countries stand out for their embrace of globalization and liberal norms on their own terms—and how, in a multipolar world, they may impact our shared future.

Authors

]]>
Thu, 12 May 2016 15:42:00 -0400Ted Piccone
The Roosevelt House Public Policy Institute hosted a forum with Ted Piccone and Ambassadors Hardeep Singh Puri and Antonio de Aguiar Patriota as they discussed his new book, Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order.
While the spread of democracy over the last three decades has inspired hope for an international liberal order, recent shifting power balances and democratic backsliding are shaking this foundation. In his new book, Brookings Institution Senior Fellow Ted Piccone discusses how five pivotal countries—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—could play a critical role as examples and supporters of liberal ideas and practices.
Mr. Piccone, Hardeep Singh Puri, former Ambassador of India to the U.N. and Secretary General of the Independent Commission on Multilateralism, and Antonio de Aguiar Patriota, Ambassador of Brazil to the U.N. and former Minister of External Relations, discuss the ways in which these countries stand out for their embrace of globalization and liberal norms on their own terms—and how, in a multipolar world, they may impact our shared future.
Authors
- Ted Piccone
Publication: Hunter College
The Roosevelt House Public Policy Institute hosted a forum with Ted Piccone and Ambassadors Hardeep Singh Puri and Antonio de Aguiar Patriota as they discussed his new book, Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order.

While the spread of democracy over the last three decades has inspired hope for an international liberal order, recent shifting power balances and democratic backsliding are shaking this foundation. In his new book, Brookings Institution Senior Fellow Ted Piccone discusses how five pivotal countries—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—could play a critical role as examples and supporters of liberal ideas and practices.

Mr. Piccone, Hardeep Singh Puri, former Ambassador of India to the U.N. and Secretary General of the Independent Commission on Multilateralism, and Antonio de Aguiar Patriota, Ambassador of Brazil to the U.N. and former Minister of External Relations, discuss the ways in which these countries stand out for their embrace of globalization and liberal norms on their own terms—and how, in a multipolar world, they may impact our shared future.

Authors

]]>
http://www.brookings.edu/research/testimony/2016/04/27-isis-southeast-asia-liow?rssid=indonesia{F6377135-97FA-4CCC-BA41-24AC9E594AEB}http://webfeeds.brookings.edu/~/151741838/0/brookingsrss/topics/indonesia~ISIS-in-the-Pacific-Assessing-terrorism-in-Southeast-Asia-and-the-threat-to-the-homelandISIS in the Pacific: Assessing terrorism in Southeast Asia and the threat to the homeland

Editor's note: Joseph Chinyong testifies before the House Subcommittee on Counterterrorism and Intelligence on the Islamic State's reach in Southeast Asia and the terrorist group's threat to the homeland. Read his full testimony below, learn more about the hearing, and watch the proceedings.

Chairman McCaul, Ranking Member Thompson, distinguished members of the subcommittee, thank you for this opportunity to testify on the subject of the threat of ISIS in Southeast Asia. It is a pleasure and privilege to appear before you today.

My name is Joseph Chinyong Liow. I hold the Lee Kuan Yew Chair in Southeast Asia Studies at the Brookings Institution, where I am also Senior Fellow in the Foreign Policy Program. I am, concurrently, Dean and Professor of Comparative and International Politics at the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies, Nanyang Technological University, in Singapore. I am a citizen of the Republic of Singapore. The views expressed here in this testimony are my own, and should not be construed as those of the Brookings Institution, the S. Rajaratnam School, or indeed, the government of Singapore.

I have been asked to offer my assessment of terrorism in Southeast Asia especially in relation to ISIS. Let me begin by saying that any assessment of the threat posed by ISIS in Southeast Asia must begin with the observation that terrorism is not a new phenomenon in the region. During the era of anti-colonial struggle, terrorism and political violence were tactics used frequently by various groups. Since 9/11, Southeast Asia has witnessed several terrorist incidents perpetrated mostly by the Al-Qaeda linked Jemaah Islamiyah terrorist organization and its splinter groups. These incidents include the October 2002 Bali bombings, the August 2003 J.W. Marriott Hotel bombing in Jakarta, the bombing of Super Ferry 14 in the southern Philippines in February 2004, the September 2004 Australian Embassy bombing in Jakarta, further bombings in Bali in October 2005, and further bombings at the J. W. Marriott (again) and the Ritz-Carlton Hotel in Jakarta in 2009. From this last series of attacks to the Jakarta attacks earlier this year, there has not been a major urban terrorist incident, although sporadic violence had continued in the form of clashes between security forces and militant groups, especially in the southern Philippines and also in Poso, Central Sulawesi, Indonesia.[1] In 2010, Indonesian security forces discovered a major militant training camp in Aceh which involved a number of jihadi groups. Several reasons can be cited to explain this hiatus: improved counterterrorism capabilities of regional security forces, disagreements within the jihadi community over the indiscriminate killing of Muslims, and rivalry and factionalism among jihadi groups that have reduced their capabilities and operational effectiveness.

Against this backdrop, the ISIS-inspired attacks in Jakarta on January 14, 2016, the April 9, 2016 attack on Philippine security forces in the southern island of Basilan conducted by groups claiming allegiance to ISIS, and a recent spate of kidnappings in southern Philippines serve as a timely reminder of the persistent threat that terrorism continues to pose to Southeast Asian societies. ISIS has emerged as the signal expression of this threat, in part, because of the speed with which it has gained popularity in the region. When Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi announced on June 28, 2014 (the first day of Ramadhan) that a caliphate had been formed by ISIS, the announcement captured the imagination of the radical fringes across Southeast Asia. The announcement was followed by a comprehensive and effective propaganda campaign that conveyed the impression of ISIS’s invincibility and validation from god. July and August that year witnessed a series of bay’at (pledge of allegiance) to ISIS taken by radical groups and clerics from Indonesia and the Philippines. It was the audacity of its announcement of the caliphate and forcefulness of its communications strategy that set ISIS apart from other groups. In September, the Southeast Asian dimension of ISIS was given something of a formal expression with the formation of Katibah Nusantara, a Southeast Asian wing of ISIS formed by Malay and Indonesian speaking fighters in Syria. Katibah fulfills several functions: it provides a social network to help Southeast Asian recruits settle in, training for those among them who would eventually take up arms, and communications with the network of pro-ISIS groups operating in Syria. By dint of these developments, the threat posed by ISIS in Southeast Asia is real, and it has been growing since mid-2014. Nevertheless, the extent of the threat should also not be exaggerated.

The ISIS Threat in Perspective

On present evidence, no ISIS-aligned group has developed the capability to mount catastrophic, mass casualty attacks in the region. Four civilians were killed in the Jakarta attacks. By comparison, 130 were killed in the Paris attacks, on which the Jakarta attacks were purportedly modeled. Because of improved legislation and operational capabilities that have gradually developed over the years since the October 2002 Bali bombings, Southeast Asian governments have managed for the most part to contain the threat posed by terrorist and jihadi groups.

An accurate assessment of the number of Southeast Asians currently in Iraq and Syria is difficult to make. Most reasonable estimates place the number at 700-800. The majority are Indonesians, with an estimated 100 Malaysians as well, and a few from Singapore and possibly, the Philippines. In both real and proportionate terms, these figures are a mere fraction of the recruits coming from Europe and Australia.[2] Nor do they all carry arms. A significant number (about 40%) are women and children below the age of 15. These women and children have followed the men to Syria in support of their efforts to fight in a holy war, and also to live in a pristine “Islamic State”. Of the Southeast Asians who carry arms, some have already been killed in the conflict zones, especially in battles with Kurdish forces. Finally, not all Southeast Asians fighting in the conflict zones are fighting for ISIS. There are some known to be fighting with other rebel groups as well as the Al-Nusra Front.

In keeping with the need for proper perspective, we should also bear in mind that despite the hype, there is at present no “ISIS Southeast Asia,” nor has ISIS central formally declared an interest in any Southeast Asian country. For the most part, the presence of ISIS in Southeast Asia is expressed in the form of radical groups and individuals who have taken oaths of allegiance to ISIS. In other words, the ISIS phenomenon is imbricated with indigenous jihadi agendas and movements. This should prompt a further consideration: the appeal of ISIS in Southeast Asia differs depending on the country. In Malaysia and Singapore, it has mostly been the eschatological ideology and theology of ISIS that has attracted a following. In Indonesia, while ISIS does have religious appeal, other reasons have also been cited to explain its attraction. These include kinship networks and loyalties, group/personal rivalries, and personal and pragmatic interests. As a consequence, the jihadi landscape in Indonesia is considerably more complex and variegated compared to other Southeast Asian countries. In the southern Philippines, groups that have long engaged in violence for political and criminal reasons are now claiming allegiance to ISIS. It is also worth noting that while Khatibah Nusantara was established in Syria as the Southeast Asian wing of ISIS, not all foreign fighters from the region have joined it. For instance, rather than aligning themselves with the Indonesian-led Khatibah, some Malaysians are known to be fighting alongside French, Algerian, and Tunisian foreign fighters instead. A likely reason for this is rivalry and disagreement with the Indonesian leadership.

A final observation is in order, regarding the pressing matter of foreign fighters returning to Southeast Asia. Given how terrorism in Southeast Asia was previously catalyzed by returnees from the Afghan jihad against the Soviet Union, it should hardly be surprising that the scenario of hardened militants returning from Syria with ideology, operational knowledge, and frontline experience to mount attacks in the region is one that exercises security planners. This is a potential threat that cannot be taken lightly. But it should also be viewed in context. Three points are instructive in this regard:

First, the returnees known to regional governments and currently in custody are essentially deportees who failed in their efforts to gain entry into Syria. They are not fighters who have returned of their own accord or were sent back by ISIS central for purposes of launching attacks in the region;

Second, in the 1980s, the primary objective of Indonesian radicals and jihadis in Afghanistan was not so much the defeat of Soviet forces, but to obtain training and experience in order to return to fight the repressive regime of President Suharto as revenge for its hardline position against Muslim groups. With the democratization of post-Suharto Indonesia, this situation no longer holds;

Third, given the currency of ISIS’s eschatology at least among certain segments of its Southeast Asian support, it stands to reason that many among them could well decide to stay the course in Syria to fight the great end-times battle.[3] This is more likely now that ISIS has been losing considerable swathes of its “Islamic State” territory – approximately 40% in Iraq and 10% in Syria, and has called for a new front to be established in Libya. In other words, while the threat of returnees wreaking havoc is certainly real, there are equally compelling reasons why many foreign fighters might in fact not return to Southeast Asia. In this respect, the greater threat may well be that the idea and phenomenon of ISIS would provide greater inspiration for local jihadis to continue waging what are essentially localized struggles.

The Nature of the Problem in Indonesia

Indonesia was the victim of the first ISIS-inspired attack in Southeast Asia. This occurred on January 14, 2016, when self-proclaimed followers of ISIS set off bombs at a Starbucks outside the Sarinah mall and at a nearby police outpost, and gunfire broke out on the streets at Jalan Tamrin in the heart of Jakarta.[4] While the casualty toll was limited, it could have been higher had the militants succeeded in conducting the attack on a much larger and more popular shopping mall, as was the original intent (but they were discouraged by the tight security at that mall).

The fact is that while Indonesia is often touted for its “moderation” in Islamic thought and practice, a radical Islamic fringe has been part of the Indonesian social and political landscape for a long time. During the Second World War the Dutch East Indies (as Indonesia was then known) was occupied by imperial Japan. Towards the end of the occupation, the Japanese military administration deliberately adopted a policy of politicizing the Muslim population and encouraging the assertion of Islamic identity. While the intent was to stoke indigenous ill-will against the Dutch, it effectively created, radicalized, and empowered an entire generation of youth, many of whom eventually took up arms not only against returning British and Dutch forces, but later also against the Republican Indonesian government that was subsequently established. Their rallying cry was jihad; and their objective was the implementation of Islamic law as a fundamental organizing principle for post-independence Indonesian society. Led by charismatic self-proclaimed religious leaders such as Kartosuwirjo, radicalized youth established the Darul Islam Indonesia movement (Islamic State of Indonesia) and waged armed struggle against the Dutch. This armed struggle continued after transfer of power in 1949, this time against the Republican government in Jakarta. The Darul Islam movement presented an alternative vision of Islamic society to Indonesians, a vision they were prepared to usher into reality through the use of political violence. While generations of Darul Islam leadership have since been eliminated, the vision itself, and many of the networks built on it, remained intact and informs much of present-day radicalism and jihadism in Indonesia, including the forms that are aligned with ISIS.

Meanwhile, the mainstream of Indonesian society was itself in the throes of an Islamization process triggered as much by internal factors as it was by the widely discussed phenomenon of the “global Islamic resurgence.” Since the constitutional debates in 1945, a segment of the Indonesian political class has agitated for the implementation of shari’a in the country. These efforts were defeated by due process in 1945, 1959, and 2001, but have never been entirely eliminated. Many chose to read this as indicative of the unpopularity of Islamic strictures as a formal principle of governance. Yet, other segments of the Muslim leadership saw this as evidence of an urgent need for greater Islamic proselytization – da’wa – in Indonesia.

For the first three-quarters of President Suharto’s 32-year New Order rule, Muslim activism was depoliticized and circumscribed. This had the effect of catalysing a vibrant Islamic intellectual milieu as Islamic social movements moved underground and into the campuses. Among other things, it found expression in the rise of a number of da’wa groups and Muslim student associations in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Their activities flourished with funding from Saudi Arabia. Similar to what happened in neighbouring Malaysia, before long graduates of these groups and associations would come to control the levers of power as they entered the bureaucracy and positions of leadership.

Fast-forward to the fall of Suharto in the late 1990s, this vibrant “apoliticized” milieu quickly morphed and surfaced as a dynamic terrain of Islamic activism comprising groups with multiple shades of doctrinal affiliations. Many of these were reformist and liberal groups that embraced democracy and human rights as wholeheartedly as they did Islamic culture and tradition. But another less appealing side also emerged, comprising groups that drank from the wells of Darul Islam radicalism. The most vivid, but by no means only, expression of this phenomenon was the Jemaah Islamiyah, created by the late Abdullah Sungkar and Abu Bakar Ba’asyir, two Indonesian Islamic clerics of Arab origin with deep roots in Darul Islam as well as the da’wa movement. What is significant about Jemaah Islamiyah is the fact that it was built not only around Afghan veterans, but more importantly, kin networks of Darul Islam supporters and their disaffected descendants. Jemaah Islamiyah, as we know, masterminded a number of terrorist attacks in Indonesia through the 2000s, the most devastating being the Bali bombings. Less visible to the world – but no less bloody – was the violence perpetrated by Jemaah Islamiyah and other jihadi groups in the Eastern Indonesian islands of Sulawesi, Maluku, and North Maluku. Since the 2009 attacks on the J.W. Marriott and the Ritz Carlton hotels in Jakarta, Indonesian jihadi activity has moved away from targeting foreigners and has focused on the Indonesian police. This pattern held until the ISIS-inspired attacks in Jakarta in January 2016 in which civilians were also killed.

After a frustrating initial period of denial, the Indonesian government eventually managed to circumscribe the activities of Jemaah Islamiyah and killed and/or captured a considerable number of its leadership and membership. Yet, Jemaah Islamiyah still exists. More disconcertingly, it has consolidated, and has not disavowed violence in pursuit of its objective of the creation of an Islamic state. Likewise, notwithstanding two peace accords, residual grievances and the threat of violence continues to cast a long shadow over places like Poso in Central Sulawesi, which remains a hothouse for jihadi activity including those of self-proclaimed ISIS militants. The fact that Uighurs were found in the training camp of Santoso’s pro-ISIS group, Mujahidin Indonesia Timur or the Mujahidin of Eastern Indonesia, in Poso further attests to a new phenomenon – foreign fighters who are using Poso for purposes of training and, possibly, transit to Syria.[5]

It is important to mention that in Indonesia, Jemaah Islamiyah are at odds with ISIS for reasons of theological and personality differences. Ironically, because of their anti-ISIS position, Jemaah Islamiyah has been granted a public platform from which they have readily denounced ISIS. An example is how Abu Tholut (Imron), a convicted terrorist serving a prison sentence in Indonesia, has been given airtime to criticize ISIS. While any denunciation of ISIS is understandably welcome, the fact that the Indonesian government is enlisting Jemaah Islamiyah, which has been designated a terrorist organization by the U.S. and the U.N. and whose membership includes hardline militants, to do this cannot but give pause. As mentioned earlier, Jemaah Islamiyah, which has a following that is far larger than ISIS in Indonesia, has never renounced the use of violence to achieve its ends. In fact, Jemaah Islamiyah has over the years managed to regroup, consolidate, and recruit.[6] Finally, a significant number of Jemaah Islamiyah members currently imprisoned are expected to be released towards the end of the year when their sentences run out. Indonesia does not as yet have any strategy to deal with released terrorists in terms of rehabilitation. Simply put, the arid reality is that while ISIS is commanding attention today, it may well be Jemaah Islamiyah – with its organizational strength, funding, and more established support base – that will pose a graver terrorist threat in Indonesia.

The Nature of the Problem in Malaysia

There are an estimated 100 Malaysians in Syria and Iraq, of which more than ten are women. More than ten are also known to have already been killed on the battlefield, mostly in Syria (one known casualty in Iraq as of 2015). Although there has not been a successful terrorist attack in Malaysia, police raids in recent months have uncovered efforts to mount such operations in the country, including an alleged attempt to kidnap the country’s political leadership. In 2015 alone, more than a hundred alleged ISIS-sympathizers were arrested in the country.

Any attempt to understand the context and nature of the terror threat posed by ISIS in Malaysia must begin with an examination of the climate of religious conservatism and intolerance in the country, to which the UMNO-led “moderate” government has contributed by way of its institutions, affiliates, and policies. This climate of religious conservatism and intolerance has created fertile conditions for ISIS ideology to gain popularity, to wit, the reality is a far cry from the “moderate” image of Malaysia that the government of Prime Minister Najib Tun Razak has tried to portray.

Islam has unfortunately become heavily politicized in Malaysia. Malaysia’s dominant political party, UMNO, is a Malay-Muslim party that was created with the main objective of, at least in theory, promoting and defending Malay-Muslim supremacy. According to the party’s narrative, this supremacy is coming under siege from various cultural (read: non-Malay) and religious (read: non-Muslim) quarters and hence has to be staunchly defended. Given that Malaysia has a Malay-Muslim majority population, it should come as no surprise that UMNO’s chief political opponents are also Malay-Muslim parties who equally brandish religious credentials as a source of legitimacy. The consequence of this is a condition whereby the political parties try to “out-Islam” each other, leaving non-Muslims and minority Muslim sects and movements marginalized in their wake. But the politics merely expresses the perpetuation of an exclusivist brand of Islam that is divorced from the religion’s historically enlightened traditions, and which has no intention to encourage pluralism or compromise. Because politics in Malaysia is now a zero sum game as UMNO struggles to cling on to power by focusing on its religious credentials, religion has also become a zero sum game.

Related to this is the fact that this politicization of Islam is taking place against a backdrop of a state which has taken upon itself to police Islam and curtail any expression of faith that departs from the mainstream Shafi’i tradition. Yes, the ummah may be universal and Islamic confessional traditions may be diverse, but in Malaysia there is very little room for compromise beyond the “Islam” sanctioned by the state. The Shi’a are legally proscribed, and several smaller Islamic sects are deemed deviant and hence, banned. All this happens despite the existence of constitutional provisions for freedom of worship. Needless to say, attempts by various fringe quarters in Muslim society to move discourse away from an overly exclusivist register have run up against the considerable weight of the state, who appoint and empower religious authorities that define and police “right” and “wrong” Islam.

Finally, rather than extol the virtues and conciliatory features of Islam’s rich tradition, many Malay-Muslim political leaders have instead chosen to use religion to amplify difference, to reinforce extreme interpretations of Malay-Muslim denizen rights, and to condemn the “other” (non-Muslims) as a threat to these rights. For fear of further erosion of legitimacy and political support, the Malay-Muslim leadership of the country have circled the wagons, allowing vocal right-wing ethno-nationalist and religious groups to preach incendiary messages against Christians and Hindus with impunity. In extreme cases, they have even flippantly referred to fellow Malaysians who are adherents to other religious faiths openly as “enemies of Islam.” Until recently even state-sanctioned Friday sermons have on some occasions blatantly taken to referring to non-Muslim Malaysians as “enemies of Islam.”

Granted, Malaysia is now a member of the anti-ISIS coalition, and its leaders have finally started to act against inflammatory rhetoric targeted at non-Muslim and minority Muslim sects. Yet, given the reality that is the religio-political climate in Malaysia today, it should hardly be a surprise that Malaysia is now struggling to deal with the appeal of extremist ideas of a group such as ISIS. Such is the potential depth of this appeal, ISIS sympathizers have been found even within the security forces (although some news reports have exaggerated their numbers). A particular concern for Malaysian authorities is the proliferation of Malay-language radical websites and chat groups that are pro-ISIS in orientation. This indicates that there is clearly a Malaysian audience for ISIS-related propaganda. It also renders the dangers of self-radicalization more acute, and the prospects of “lone-wolf” terrorism more likely.

Assessing Counterterrorism Efforts in Southeast Asia

Unlike the 1990s, when they were caught off guard by the return of Jihadis from Afghanistan, regional security forces have been alert to the threat that potential returnees from Syria and Iraq might pose. In part, this is because counterterrorism has already been a matter of policy priority since the 9/11 attacks (when investigations revealed that some of the planning took place in Southeast Asia) and the Bali bombings in October 2002. The declaration of the caliphate in mid-2014, and revelations that Southeast Asians were fighting in Syria, have further hastened counterterrorism efforts in Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore.

In Indonesia, counterterrorism operations mounted by both Detachment-88 (Densus-88 or National Police Counterterrorism Squad) and the BNPT (National Counterterrorism Agency) have pinned down militant ISIS sympathizers in Poso, Central Sulawesi. In Malaysia and Singapore, security agencies have used internal security legislation to curtail ISIS-inspired activity and arrest suspected ISIS sympathizers. In the Philippines, while several militant groups have sworn allegiance to ISIS, their activities remain confined to the southern regions of the archipelago, in Sulu, Basilan, and Mindanao. That being said, authorities in Philippines are worried that an attack may happen in Manila.

In response to the Jakarta attacks earlier this year, Indonesia is currently in the process of tabling significant amendments to existing laws pertaining to terrorism. The general objective behind these revisions appears to be to allow security forces to pre-empt acts of terrorism rather than merely react to them after they have occurred. A series of recommendations for legal reform have been submitted to the parliament to that effect, and await parliamentary debate. These recommendations include, among other things, introduction of some form of detention without trial for purposes of investigation, a redefinition of terrorism (to include not just physical acts but also hate speech, symbols, etc.), swifter approval of electronic surveillance, and the arrest of individuals involved in military training overseas and the revoking of their citizenship (this is a direct response to the problem of Indonesian foreign fighters in Syria).

There has also been considerable pushback against the ideology of ISIS, although more can certainly be done. Indonesia is home to two of the largest Muslim mass movements in the world – Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) and Muhammadiyah. NU and Muhammadiyah claim memberships of 40 million and 30 million respectively. Both are considered mainstream Muslim organizations widely accepted and popular among Indonesians (hence their large memberships). Their leaders and clerics are respected internationally as Islamic scholars of considerable repute. Noteworthy too, is the fact that both have launched their own programs to counter the narrative of ISIS, and indeed, of other radical groups. Similar efforts at countering the ISIS narrative can be observed in Malaysia and Singapore, albeit on a smaller scale. Nevertheless, such efforts could perhaps be further enhanced by greater cooperation and collaboration among them, especially given that the threat posed by ISIS is transnational in nature.

The situation in their prison system poses a major problem for Indonesian counterterrorism efforts. Pro-ISIS and pro-Jemaah Islamiyah Jihadi ideologues have been recruiting easily in Indonesia’s prisons. At issue is how these radical clerics, such as Abu Bakar Ba’asyir and Aman Abdurrahman, the chief ISIS ideologue in Indonesia, are allowed to mingle with “gen pop” on a regular basis (in fact, Aman Abdurrahman and Abu Bakar Ba’asyir were in constant communication over text messaging while both were in different prisons – Ba’asyir in Pasir Putih and Aman in Kembang Kuning – and it is likely that Aman eventually persuaded Ba’asyir to swear allegiance to ISIS, which he did on July 8, 2014 only to rescind it later).[7] This being the case, their radical ideas and sermons have enjoyed easy access to a ready, disaffected audience. In addition to this, corruption, incompetence, poor monitoring, and poor supervision of visits have all contributed to the ease with which radical ideas propounded by jihadi ideologues and recruiters are allowed proliferate among “gen pop”. Hence, reform of the prison system is urgent, if not an absolute priority.

Perhaps the greatest challenge for the region as a whole is the policing and governance of the triborder waters encompassing the Sulu Sea (Philippines), waters off Sabah (Malaysia), and the Celebes/Sulawesi Sea (Indonesia). This porous and ungoverned region has presented, and will continue to present, a major problem by virtue of the ease of movement for militants and terrorists across borders (see attached picture). This region has developed their own political economy over many decades, which involves not just the movement of militants and terrorists, but also human and arms trafficking. Local authorities are often either unable to curtail such activities or, indeed, complicit in them. The challenge posed by the ungoverned space in this triborder area will require multi-national cooperation to surmount. None of the regional states can do it alone. They do not possess the capabilities required to police this vast and complex space, nor the authority to do so given that such efforts will necessarily involve cross-border operations. Moreover, as evident from the difficulties faced by regional security forces to apprehend militants from Jemaah Islamiyah and other groups ensconced in the Sulu archipelago, this region has already emerged as a safe haven for terrorists. With the “Pivot” strategy in place, the U.S. should consider exploring how to facilitate cooperation among regional states on this matter. There is also a definitive U.S. interest in this, given that American citizens have been kidnapped before by groups operating in this region.

At present, there is ongoing conversation and exchange of intelligence and information in various forms between Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, and Singapore. But cooperation needs to be taken a step or two further, to involve joint patrols and where necessary, joint operations. Of course, such efforts could run up against rigid mind-sets, obsolete paradigms, and the perennial reluctance to compromise sovereignty, but the harsh reality, as mentioned earlier, is that none of the regional states are capable of doing this on their own. By the same token, cooperation between agencies within the various Southeast Asian governments – specifically, between the military, police, and intelligence - can also be improved. These two areas are where the United States can perhaps make a contribution by way of training programs and transfer of operational knowledge.

Conclusion

The emergence of the phenomenon of ISIS in Southeast Asia and the traction it appears to have garnered is illustrative of how resilient but also evolutionary the threat of terrorism has become. Because of this, regional governments must remain vigilant to ISIS-related developments, particularly in terms monitoring both returnees as well as communications between militants in Syria and their counterparts and followers back home. They must equally be prepared to evolve with the threat in terms of counterterrorism strategies, narratives, and cooperation.

At the same time, in our anxiety over ISIS, we must be careful not to miss the forest for the trees. There are multiple groups operating in Southeast Asia that are intent on using some form of political violence to further their ends. Many are at odds with each other; not all are seeking affiliation to, or enamored of, ISIS. Indeed, while ISIS appears an immediate concern, a case can be made that the longer term, possibly more resilient, terrorist threat to the region may not come from ISIS but from Jemaah Islamiyah, for reasons explained earlier. It is also imperative that the threat of terrorism in Southeast Asia be kept in perspective. Whether from ISIS or Jemaah Islamiyah, the threat of terrorism is not an existential one for Southeast Asia. Though eliminating terrorism altogether would be a tall order, the threat is certainly manageable if the correct balance of perspective and policies are taken, and cooperation among regional states is enhanced.

The operational capabilities of Southeast Asian militant and terrorist groups, including those aligned to ISIS, remains limited. There is little evidence that groups have developed the sophistication and know-how to mount mass casualty attacks. However, we must be mindful that given the resilient and evolutionary nature of terrorism in Southeast Asia, this situation could well change. One possible factor that could prompt this change is a deliberate shift of attention of ISIS central to Southeast Asia, leading to the dispatch of hardened fighters to the region. This however, seems unlikely for the present as ISIS is preoccupied with its immediate priority of holding ground in Iraq and Syria, and possibly expanding its fight to Libya and Europe.

ISIS-related activity in Southeast Asia poses no immediate threat to the American homeland. Thus far, there has also not been any indication of any specific desire on the part of ISIS-inspired militants to target offshore American interests such as embassies and/or commercial enterprises. This does not mean however, that there is no need for vigilance. The Jakarta attacks could be indicative of a return to the targeting of foreigners. Meanwhile, U.S.-led anti-ISIS coalition successes in Syria and Iraq might elicit a call from ISIS central to its sympathizers and supporters worldwide to strike at the United States. On this score, it would serve U.S. interests to cooperate even more closely with regional partners in the fight against ISIS, and more generally, terrorism, in Southeast Asia.

[1] There were bomb attacks in Bangkok during this time but these were not linked to ISIS or any other Muslim terrorist groups. There were also bombings in Myanmar in 2013, but the identity of the perpetrators remains unknown.[2] Edward Delman, “ISIS in the World’s Largest Muslim Country: Why are there so few Indonesians joining the Islamic state?” The Atlantic, January 3, 2016.[3] Narrated by Ibn 'Umar that the Messenger of Allah said: "O Allah bless us in our Shām! O Allah bless us in our Yemen." They said: "And in our Najd" He said: "O Allah bless us in our Shām! O Allah bless us in our Yemen." They said: "And in our Najd" He said: "Earthquakes are there, and tribulations are there." Or he said: "The horn of Shaitan comes from there." – Jāmi‘ al-Tirmidhi.[4] Sidney Jones, “Battling ISIS in Indonesia,” New York Times, January 18, 2016.[5] “Two Chinese Uighurs Killed in Poso Terrorist Shootout,” Jakarta Globe, March 16, 2016.[6] “Extremist group Jemaah Islamiyah active again, recruiting and collecting funds,” Straits Times, February 15, 2016.[7] Yuliasri Perdani and Ina Parlina, “Govt to tighten prison security following Ba’asyir’s ‘baiat,” Jakarta Post, July 7, 2015.

Authors

]]>
Wed, 27 Apr 2016 10:00:00 -0400Joseph Chinyong Liow
Editor's note: Joseph Chinyong testifies before the House Subcommittee on Counterterrorism and Intelligence on the Islamic State's reach in Southeast Asia and the terrorist group's threat to the homeland. Read his full testimony below, learn more about the hearing, and watch the proceedings.
Chairman McCaul, Ranking Member Thompson, distinguished members of the subcommittee, thank you for this opportunity to testify on the subject of the threat of ISIS in Southeast Asia. It is a pleasure and privilege to appear before you today.
My name is Joseph Chinyong Liow. I hold the Lee Kuan Yew Chair in Southeast Asia Studies at the Brookings Institution, where I am also Senior Fellow in the Foreign Policy Program. I am, concurrently, Dean and Professor of Comparative and International Politics at the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies, Nanyang Technological University, in Singapore. I am a citizen of the Republic of Singapore. The views expressed here in this testimony are my own, and should not be construed as those of the Brookings Institution, the S. Rajaratnam School, or indeed, the government of Singapore.
I have been asked to offer my assessment of terrorism in Southeast Asia especially in relation to ISIS. Let me begin by saying that any assessment of the threat posed by ISIS in Southeast Asia must begin with the observation that terrorism is not a new phenomenon in the region. During the era of anti-colonial struggle, terrorism and political violence were tactics used frequently by various groups. Since 9/11, Southeast Asia has witnessed several terrorist incidents perpetrated mostly by the Al-Qaeda linked Jemaah Islamiyah terrorist organization and its splinter groups. These incidents include the October 2002 Bali bombings, the August 2003 J.W. Marriott Hotel bombing in Jakarta, the bombing of Super Ferry 14 in the southern Philippines in February 2004, the September 2004 Australian Embassy bombing in Jakarta, further bombings in Bali in October 2005, and further bombings at the J. W. Marriott (again) and the Ritz-Carlton Hotel in Jakarta in 2009. From this last series of attacks to the Jakarta attacks earlier this year, there has not been a major urban terrorist incident, although sporadic violence had continued in the form of clashes between security forces and militant groups, especially in the southern Philippines and also in Poso, Central Sulawesi, Indonesia.[1] In 2010, Indonesian security forces discovered a major militant training camp in Aceh which involved a number of jihadi groups. Several reasons can be cited to explain this hiatus: improved counterterrorism capabilities of regional security forces, disagreements within the jihadi community over the indiscriminate killing of Muslims, and rivalry and factionalism among jihadi groups that have reduced their capabilities and operational effectiveness.
Against this backdrop, the ISIS-inspired attacks in Jakarta on January 14, 2016, the April 9, 2016 attack on Philippine security forces in the southern island of Basilan conducted by groups claiming allegiance to ISIS, and a recent spate of kidnappings in southern Philippines serve as a timely reminder of the persistent threat that terrorism continues to pose to Southeast Asian societies. ISIS has emerged as the signal expression of this threat, in part, because of the speed with which it has gained popularity in the region. When Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi announced on June 28, 2014 (the first day of Ramadhan) that a caliphate had been formed by ISIS, the announcement captured the imagination of the radical fringes across Southeast Asia. The announcement was followed by a comprehensive and effective propaganda campaign that conveyed the impression of ISIS's invincibility and validation from god. July and August that year witnessed a series of bay'at (pledge of allegiance) to ISIS taken by radical groups and clerics from Indonesia and the Philippines. It was the audacity of its announcement of the ... Editor's note: Joseph Chinyong testifies before the House Subcommittee on Counterterrorism and Intelligence on the Islamic State's reach in Southeast Asia and the terrorist group's threat to the homeland. Read his full testimony below, learn more ...

Editor's note: Joseph Chinyong testifies before the House Subcommittee on Counterterrorism and Intelligence on the Islamic State's reach in Southeast Asia and the terrorist group's threat to the homeland. Read his full testimony below, learn more about the hearing, and watch the proceedings.

Chairman McCaul, Ranking Member Thompson, distinguished members of the subcommittee, thank you for this opportunity to testify on the subject of the threat of ISIS in Southeast Asia. It is a pleasure and privilege to appear before you today.

My name is Joseph Chinyong Liow. I hold the Lee Kuan Yew Chair in Southeast Asia Studies at the Brookings Institution, where I am also Senior Fellow in the Foreign Policy Program. I am, concurrently, Dean and Professor of Comparative and International Politics at the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies, Nanyang Technological University, in Singapore. I am a citizen of the Republic of Singapore. The views expressed here in this testimony are my own, and should not be construed as those of the Brookings Institution, the S. Rajaratnam School, or indeed, the government of Singapore.

I have been asked to offer my assessment of terrorism in Southeast Asia especially in relation to ISIS. Let me begin by saying that any assessment of the threat posed by ISIS in Southeast Asia must begin with the observation that terrorism is not a new phenomenon in the region. During the era of anti-colonial struggle, terrorism and political violence were tactics used frequently by various groups. Since 9/11, Southeast Asia has witnessed several terrorist incidents perpetrated mostly by the Al-Qaeda linked Jemaah Islamiyah terrorist organization and its splinter groups. These incidents include the October 2002 Bali bombings, the August 2003 J.W. Marriott Hotel bombing in Jakarta, the bombing of Super Ferry 14 in the southern Philippines in February 2004, the September 2004 Australian Embassy bombing in Jakarta, further bombings in Bali in October 2005, and further bombings at the J. W. Marriott (again) and the Ritz-Carlton Hotel in Jakarta in 2009. From this last series of attacks to the Jakarta attacks earlier this year, there has not been a major urban terrorist incident, although sporadic violence had continued in the form of clashes between security forces and militant groups, especially in the southern Philippines and also in Poso, Central Sulawesi, Indonesia.[1] In 2010, Indonesian security forces discovered a major militant training camp in Aceh which involved a number of jihadi groups. Several reasons can be cited to explain this hiatus: improved counterterrorism capabilities of regional security forces, disagreements within the jihadi community over the indiscriminate killing of Muslims, and rivalry and factionalism among jihadi groups that have reduced their capabilities and operational effectiveness.

Against this backdrop, the ISIS-inspired attacks in Jakarta on January 14, 2016, the April 9, 2016 attack on Philippine security forces in the southern island of Basilan conducted by groups claiming allegiance to ISIS, and a recent spate of kidnappings in southern Philippines serve as a timely reminder of the persistent threat that terrorism continues to pose to Southeast Asian societies. ISIS has emerged as the signal expression of this threat, in part, because of the speed with which it has gained popularity in the region. When Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi announced on June 28, 2014 (the first day of Ramadhan) that a caliphate had been formed by ISIS, the announcement captured the imagination of the radical fringes across Southeast Asia. The announcement was followed by a comprehensive and effective propaganda campaign that conveyed the impression of ISIS’s invincibility and validation from god. July and August that year witnessed a series of bay’at (pledge of allegiance) to ISIS taken by radical groups and clerics from Indonesia and the Philippines. It was the audacity of its announcement of the caliphate and forcefulness of its communications strategy that set ISIS apart from other groups. In September, the Southeast Asian dimension of ISIS was given something of a formal expression with the formation of Katibah Nusantara, a Southeast Asian wing of ISIS formed by Malay and Indonesian speaking fighters in Syria. Katibah fulfills several functions: it provides a social network to help Southeast Asian recruits settle in, training for those among them who would eventually take up arms, and communications with the network of pro-ISIS groups operating in Syria. By dint of these developments, the threat posed by ISIS in Southeast Asia is real, and it has been growing since mid-2014. Nevertheless, the extent of the threat should also not be exaggerated.

The ISIS Threat in Perspective

On present evidence, no ISIS-aligned group has developed the capability to mount catastrophic, mass casualty attacks in the region. Four civilians were killed in the Jakarta attacks. By comparison, 130 were killed in the Paris attacks, on which the Jakarta attacks were purportedly modeled. Because of improved legislation and operational capabilities that have gradually developed over the years since the October 2002 Bali bombings, Southeast Asian governments have managed for the most part to contain the threat posed by terrorist and jihadi groups.

An accurate assessment of the number of Southeast Asians currently in Iraq and Syria is difficult to make. Most reasonable estimates place the number at 700-800. The majority are Indonesians, with an estimated 100 Malaysians as well, and a few from Singapore and possibly, the Philippines. In both real and proportionate terms, these figures are a mere fraction of the recruits coming from Europe and Australia.[2] Nor do they all carry arms. A significant number (about 40%) are women and children below the age of 15. These women and children have followed the men to Syria in support of their efforts to fight in a holy war, and also to live in a pristine “Islamic State”. Of the Southeast Asians who carry arms, some have already been killed in the conflict zones, especially in battles with Kurdish forces. Finally, not all Southeast Asians fighting in the conflict zones are fighting for ISIS. There are some known to be fighting with other rebel groups as well as the Al-Nusra Front.

In keeping with the need for proper perspective, we should also bear in mind that despite the hype, there is at present no “ISIS Southeast Asia,” nor has ISIS central formally declared an interest in any Southeast Asian country. For the most part, the presence of ISIS in Southeast Asia is expressed in the form of radical groups and individuals who have taken oaths of allegiance to ISIS. In other words, the ISIS phenomenon is imbricated with indigenous jihadi agendas and movements. This should prompt a further consideration: the appeal of ISIS in Southeast Asia differs depending on the country. In Malaysia and Singapore, it has mostly been the eschatological ideology and theology of ISIS that has attracted a following. In Indonesia, while ISIS does have religious appeal, other reasons have also been cited to explain its attraction. These include kinship networks and loyalties, group/personal rivalries, and personal and pragmatic interests. As a consequence, the jihadi landscape in Indonesia is considerably more complex and variegated compared to other Southeast Asian countries. In the southern Philippines, groups that have long engaged in violence for political and criminal reasons are now claiming allegiance to ISIS. It is also worth noting that while Khatibah Nusantara was established in Syria as the Southeast Asian wing of ISIS, not all foreign fighters from the region have joined it. For instance, rather than aligning themselves with the Indonesian-led Khatibah, some Malaysians are known to be fighting alongside French, Algerian, and Tunisian foreign fighters instead. A likely reason for this is rivalry and disagreement with the Indonesian leadership.

A final observation is in order, regarding the pressing matter of foreign fighters returning to Southeast Asia. Given how terrorism in Southeast Asia was previously catalyzed by returnees from the Afghan jihad against the Soviet Union, it should hardly be surprising that the scenario of hardened militants returning from Syria with ideology, operational knowledge, and frontline experience to mount attacks in the region is one that exercises security planners. This is a potential threat that cannot be taken lightly. But it should also be viewed in context. Three points are instructive in this regard:

First, the returnees known to regional governments and currently in custody are essentially deportees who failed in their efforts to gain entry into Syria. They are not fighters who have returned of their own accord or were sent back by ISIS central for purposes of launching attacks in the region;

Second, in the 1980s, the primary objective of Indonesian radicals and jihadis in Afghanistan was not so much the defeat of Soviet forces, but to obtain training and experience in order to return to fight the repressive regime of President Suharto as revenge for its hardline position against Muslim groups. With the democratization of post-Suharto Indonesia, this situation no longer holds;

Third, given the currency of ISIS’s eschatology at least among certain segments of its Southeast Asian support, it stands to reason that many among them could well decide to stay the course in Syria to fight the great end-times battle.[3] This is more likely now that ISIS has been losing considerable swathes of its “Islamic State” territory – approximately 40% in Iraq and 10% in Syria, and has called for a new front to be established in Libya. In other words, while the threat of returnees wreaking havoc is certainly real, there are equally compelling reasons why many foreign fighters might in fact not return to Southeast Asia. In this respect, the greater threat may well be that the idea and phenomenon of ISIS would provide greater inspiration for local jihadis to continue waging what are essentially localized struggles.

The Nature of the Problem in Indonesia

Indonesia was the victim of the first ISIS-inspired attack in Southeast Asia. This occurred on January 14, 2016, when self-proclaimed followers of ISIS set off bombs at a Starbucks outside the Sarinah mall and at a nearby police outpost, and gunfire broke out on the streets at Jalan Tamrin in the heart of Jakarta.[4] While the casualty toll was limited, it could have been higher had the militants succeeded in conducting the attack on a much larger and more popular shopping mall, as was the original intent (but they were discouraged by the tight security at that mall).

The fact is that while Indonesia is often touted for its “moderation” in Islamic thought and practice, a radical Islamic fringe has been part of the Indonesian social and political landscape for a long time. During the Second World War the Dutch East Indies (as Indonesia was then known) was occupied by imperial Japan. Towards the end of the occupation, the Japanese military administration deliberately adopted a policy of politicizing the Muslim population and encouraging the assertion of Islamic identity. While the intent was to stoke indigenous ill-will against the Dutch, it effectively created, radicalized, and empowered an entire generation of youth, many of whom eventually took up arms not only against returning British and Dutch forces, but later also against the Republican Indonesian government that was subsequently established. Their rallying cry was jihad; and their objective was the implementation of Islamic law as a fundamental organizing principle for post-independence Indonesian society. Led by charismatic self-proclaimed religious leaders such as Kartosuwirjo, radicalized youth established the Darul Islam Indonesia movement (Islamic State of Indonesia) and waged armed struggle against the Dutch. This armed struggle continued after transfer of power in 1949, this time against the Republican government in Jakarta. The Darul Islam movement presented an alternative vision of Islamic society to Indonesians, a vision they were prepared to usher into reality through the use of political violence. While generations of Darul Islam leadership have since been eliminated, the vision itself, and many of the networks built on it, remained intact and informs much of present-day radicalism and jihadism in Indonesia, including the forms that are aligned with ISIS.

Meanwhile, the mainstream of Indonesian society was itself in the throes of an Islamization process triggered as much by internal factors as it was by the widely discussed phenomenon of the “global Islamic resurgence.” Since the constitutional debates in 1945, a segment of the Indonesian political class has agitated for the implementation of shari’a in the country. These efforts were defeated by due process in 1945, 1959, and 2001, but have never been entirely eliminated. Many chose to read this as indicative of the unpopularity of Islamic strictures as a formal principle of governance. Yet, other segments of the Muslim leadership saw this as evidence of an urgent need for greater Islamic proselytization – da’wa – in Indonesia.

For the first three-quarters of President Suharto’s 32-year New Order rule, Muslim activism was depoliticized and circumscribed. This had the effect of catalysing a vibrant Islamic intellectual milieu as Islamic social movements moved underground and into the campuses. Among other things, it found expression in the rise of a number of da’wa groups and Muslim student associations in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Their activities flourished with funding from Saudi Arabia. Similar to what happened in neighbouring Malaysia, before long graduates of these groups and associations would come to control the levers of power as they entered the bureaucracy and positions of leadership.

Fast-forward to the fall of Suharto in the late 1990s, this vibrant “apoliticized” milieu quickly morphed and surfaced as a dynamic terrain of Islamic activism comprising groups with multiple shades of doctrinal affiliations. Many of these were reformist and liberal groups that embraced democracy and human rights as wholeheartedly as they did Islamic culture and tradition. But another less appealing side also emerged, comprising groups that drank from the wells of Darul Islam radicalism. The most vivid, but by no means only, expression of this phenomenon was the Jemaah Islamiyah, created by the late Abdullah Sungkar and Abu Bakar Ba’asyir, two Indonesian Islamic clerics of Arab origin with deep roots in Darul Islam as well as the da’wa movement. What is significant about Jemaah Islamiyah is the fact that it was built not only around Afghan veterans, but more importantly, kin networks of Darul Islam supporters and their disaffected descendants. Jemaah Islamiyah, as we know, masterminded a number of terrorist attacks in Indonesia through the 2000s, the most devastating being the Bali bombings. Less visible to the world – but no less bloody – was the violence perpetrated by Jemaah Islamiyah and other jihadi groups in the Eastern Indonesian islands of Sulawesi, Maluku, and North Maluku. Since the 2009 attacks on the J.W. Marriott and the Ritz Carlton hotels in Jakarta, Indonesian jihadi activity has moved away from targeting foreigners and has focused on the Indonesian police. This pattern held until the ISIS-inspired attacks in Jakarta in January 2016 in which civilians were also killed.

After a frustrating initial period of denial, the Indonesian government eventually managed to circumscribe the activities of Jemaah Islamiyah and killed and/or captured a considerable number of its leadership and membership. Yet, Jemaah Islamiyah still exists. More disconcertingly, it has consolidated, and has not disavowed violence in pursuit of its objective of the creation of an Islamic state. Likewise, notwithstanding two peace accords, residual grievances and the threat of violence continues to cast a long shadow over places like Poso in Central Sulawesi, which remains a hothouse for jihadi activity including those of self-proclaimed ISIS militants. The fact that Uighurs were found in the training camp of Santoso’s pro-ISIS group, Mujahidin Indonesia Timur or the Mujahidin of Eastern Indonesia, in Poso further attests to a new phenomenon – foreign fighters who are using Poso for purposes of training and, possibly, transit to Syria.[5]

It is important to mention that in Indonesia, Jemaah Islamiyah are at odds with ISIS for reasons of theological and personality differences. Ironically, because of their anti-ISIS position, Jemaah Islamiyah has been granted a public platform from which they have readily denounced ISIS. An example is how Abu Tholut (Imron), a convicted terrorist serving a prison sentence in Indonesia, has been given airtime to criticize ISIS. While any denunciation of ISIS is understandably welcome, the fact that the Indonesian government is enlisting Jemaah Islamiyah, which has been designated a terrorist organization by the U.S. and the U.N. and whose membership includes hardline militants, to do this cannot but give pause. As mentioned earlier, Jemaah Islamiyah, which has a following that is far larger than ISIS in Indonesia, has never renounced the use of violence to achieve its ends. In fact, Jemaah Islamiyah has over the years managed to regroup, consolidate, and recruit.[6] Finally, a significant number of Jemaah Islamiyah members currently imprisoned are expected to be released towards the end of the year when their sentences run out. Indonesia does not as yet have any strategy to deal with released terrorists in terms of rehabilitation. Simply put, the arid reality is that while ISIS is commanding attention today, it may well be Jemaah Islamiyah – with its organizational strength, funding, and more established support base – that will pose a graver terrorist threat in Indonesia.

The Nature of the Problem in Malaysia

There are an estimated 100 Malaysians in Syria and Iraq, of which more than ten are women. More than ten are also known to have already been killed on the battlefield, mostly in Syria (one known casualty in Iraq as of 2015). Although there has not been a successful terrorist attack in Malaysia, police raids in recent months have uncovered efforts to mount such operations in the country, including an alleged attempt to kidnap the country’s political leadership. In 2015 alone, more than a hundred alleged ISIS-sympathizers were arrested in the country.

Any attempt to understand the context and nature of the terror threat posed by ISIS in Malaysia must begin with an examination of the climate of religious conservatism and intolerance in the country, to which the UMNO-led “moderate” government has contributed by way of its institutions, affiliates, and policies. This climate of religious conservatism and intolerance has created fertile conditions for ISIS ideology to gain popularity, to wit, the reality is a far cry from the “moderate” image of Malaysia that the government of Prime Minister Najib Tun Razak has tried to portray.

Islam has unfortunately become heavily politicized in Malaysia. Malaysia’s dominant political party, UMNO, is a Malay-Muslim party that was created with the main objective of, at least in theory, promoting and defending Malay-Muslim supremacy. According to the party’s narrative, this supremacy is coming under siege from various cultural (read: non-Malay) and religious (read: non-Muslim) quarters and hence has to be staunchly defended. Given that Malaysia has a Malay-Muslim majority population, it should come as no surprise that UMNO’s chief political opponents are also Malay-Muslim parties who equally brandish religious credentials as a source of legitimacy. The consequence of this is a condition whereby the political parties try to “out-Islam” each other, leaving non-Muslims and minority Muslim sects and movements marginalized in their wake. But the politics merely expresses the perpetuation of an exclusivist brand of Islam that is divorced from the religion’s historically enlightened traditions, and which has no intention to encourage pluralism or compromise. Because politics in Malaysia is now a zero sum game as UMNO struggles to cling on to power by focusing on its religious credentials, religion has also become a zero sum game.

Related to this is the fact that this politicization of Islam is taking place against a backdrop of a state which has taken upon itself to police Islam and curtail any expression of faith that departs from the mainstream Shafi’i tradition. Yes, the ummah may be universal and Islamic confessional traditions may be diverse, but in Malaysia there is very little room for compromise beyond the “Islam” sanctioned by the state. The Shi’a are legally proscribed, and several smaller Islamic sects are deemed deviant and hence, banned. All this happens despite the existence of constitutional provisions for freedom of worship. Needless to say, attempts by various fringe quarters in Muslim society to move discourse away from an overly exclusivist register have run up against the considerable weight of the state, who appoint and empower religious authorities that define and police “right” and “wrong” Islam.

Finally, rather than extol the virtues and conciliatory features of Islam’s rich tradition, many Malay-Muslim political leaders have instead chosen to use religion to amplify difference, to reinforce extreme interpretations of Malay-Muslim denizen rights, and to condemn the “other” (non-Muslims) as a threat to these rights. For fear of further erosion of legitimacy and political support, the Malay-Muslim leadership of the country have circled the wagons, allowing vocal right-wing ethno-nationalist and religious groups to preach incendiary messages against Christians and Hindus with impunity. In extreme cases, they have even flippantly referred to fellow Malaysians who are adherents to other religious faiths openly as “enemies of Islam.” Until recently even state-sanctioned Friday sermons have on some occasions blatantly taken to referring to non-Muslim Malaysians as “enemies of Islam.”

Granted, Malaysia is now a member of the anti-ISIS coalition, and its leaders have finally started to act against inflammatory rhetoric targeted at non-Muslim and minority Muslim sects. Yet, given the reality that is the religio-political climate in Malaysia today, it should hardly be a surprise that Malaysia is now struggling to deal with the appeal of extremist ideas of a group such as ISIS. Such is the potential depth of this appeal, ISIS sympathizers have been found even within the security forces (although some news reports have exaggerated their numbers). A particular concern for Malaysian authorities is the proliferation of Malay-language radical websites and chat groups that are pro-ISIS in orientation. This indicates that there is clearly a Malaysian audience for ISIS-related propaganda. It also renders the dangers of self-radicalization more acute, and the prospects of “lone-wolf” terrorism more likely.

Assessing Counterterrorism Efforts in Southeast Asia

Unlike the 1990s, when they were caught off guard by the return of Jihadis from Afghanistan, regional security forces have been alert to the threat that potential returnees from Syria and Iraq might pose. In part, this is because counterterrorism has already been a matter of policy priority since the 9/11 attacks (when investigations revealed that some of the planning took place in Southeast Asia) and the Bali bombings in October 2002. The declaration of the caliphate in mid-2014, and revelations that Southeast Asians were fighting in Syria, have further hastened counterterrorism efforts in Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore.

In Indonesia, counterterrorism operations mounted by both Detachment-88 (Densus-88 or National Police Counterterrorism Squad) and the BNPT (National Counterterrorism Agency) have pinned down militant ISIS sympathizers in Poso, Central Sulawesi. In Malaysia and Singapore, security agencies have used internal security legislation to curtail ISIS-inspired activity and arrest suspected ISIS sympathizers. In the Philippines, while several militant groups have sworn allegiance to ISIS, their activities remain confined to the southern regions of the archipelago, in Sulu, Basilan, and Mindanao. That being said, authorities in Philippines are worried that an attack may happen in Manila.

In response to the Jakarta attacks earlier this year, Indonesia is currently in the process of tabling significant amendments to existing laws pertaining to terrorism. The general objective behind these revisions appears to be to allow security forces to pre-empt acts of terrorism rather than merely react to them after they have occurred. A series of recommendations for legal reform have been submitted to the parliament to that effect, and await parliamentary debate. These recommendations include, among other things, introduction of some form of detention without trial for purposes of investigation, a redefinition of terrorism (to include not just physical acts but also hate speech, symbols, etc.), swifter approval of electronic surveillance, and the arrest of individuals involved in military training overseas and the revoking of their citizenship (this is a direct response to the problem of Indonesian foreign fighters in Syria).

There has also been considerable pushback against the ideology of ISIS, although more can certainly be done. Indonesia is home to two of the largest Muslim mass movements in the world – Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) and Muhammadiyah. NU and Muhammadiyah claim memberships of 40 million and 30 million respectively. Both are considered mainstream Muslim organizations widely accepted and popular among Indonesians (hence their large memberships). Their leaders and clerics are respected internationally as Islamic scholars of considerable repute. Noteworthy too, is the fact that both have launched their own programs to counter the narrative of ISIS, and indeed, of other radical groups. Similar efforts at countering the ISIS narrative can be observed in Malaysia and Singapore, albeit on a smaller scale. Nevertheless, such efforts could perhaps be further enhanced by greater cooperation and collaboration among them, especially given that the threat posed by ISIS is transnational in nature.

The situation in their prison system poses a major problem for Indonesian counterterrorism efforts. Pro-ISIS and pro-Jemaah Islamiyah Jihadi ideologues have been recruiting easily in Indonesia’s prisons. At issue is how these radical clerics, such as Abu Bakar Ba’asyir and Aman Abdurrahman, the chief ISIS ideologue in Indonesia, are allowed to mingle with “gen pop” on a regular basis (in fact, Aman Abdurrahman and Abu Bakar Ba’asyir were in constant communication over text messaging while both were in different prisons – Ba’asyir in Pasir Putih and Aman in Kembang Kuning – and it is likely that Aman eventually persuaded Ba’asyir to swear allegiance to ISIS, which he did on July 8, 2014 only to rescind it later).[7] This being the case, their radical ideas and sermons have enjoyed easy access to a ready, disaffected audience. In addition to this, corruption, incompetence, poor monitoring, and poor supervision of visits have all contributed to the ease with which radical ideas propounded by jihadi ideologues and recruiters are allowed proliferate among “gen pop”. Hence, reform of the prison system is urgent, if not an absolute priority.

Perhaps the greatest challenge for the region as a whole is the policing and governance of the triborder waters encompassing the Sulu Sea (Philippines), waters off Sabah (Malaysia), and the Celebes/Sulawesi Sea (Indonesia). This porous and ungoverned region has presented, and will continue to present, a major problem by virtue of the ease of movement for militants and terrorists across borders (see attached picture). This region has developed their own political economy over many decades, which involves not just the movement of militants and terrorists, but also human and arms trafficking. Local authorities are often either unable to curtail such activities or, indeed, complicit in them. The challenge posed by the ungoverned space in this triborder area will require multi-national cooperation to surmount. None of the regional states can do it alone. They do not possess the capabilities required to police this vast and complex space, nor the authority to do so given that such efforts will necessarily involve cross-border operations. Moreover, as evident from the difficulties faced by regional security forces to apprehend militants from Jemaah Islamiyah and other groups ensconced in the Sulu archipelago, this region has already emerged as a safe haven for terrorists. With the “Pivot” strategy in place, the U.S. should consider exploring how to facilitate cooperation among regional states on this matter. There is also a definitive U.S. interest in this, given that American citizens have been kidnapped before by groups operating in this region.

At present, there is ongoing conversation and exchange of intelligence and information in various forms between Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, and Singapore. But cooperation needs to be taken a step or two further, to involve joint patrols and where necessary, joint operations. Of course, such efforts could run up against rigid mind-sets, obsolete paradigms, and the perennial reluctance to compromise sovereignty, but the harsh reality, as mentioned earlier, is that none of the regional states are capable of doing this on their own. By the same token, cooperation between agencies within the various Southeast Asian governments – specifically, between the military, police, and intelligence - can also be improved. These two areas are where the United States can perhaps make a contribution by way of training programs and transfer of operational knowledge.

Conclusion

The emergence of the phenomenon of ISIS in Southeast Asia and the traction it appears to have garnered is illustrative of how resilient but also evolutionary the threat of terrorism has become. Because of this, regional governments must remain vigilant to ISIS-related developments, particularly in terms monitoring both returnees as well as communications between militants in Syria and their counterparts and followers back home. They must equally be prepared to evolve with the threat in terms of counterterrorism strategies, narratives, and cooperation.

At the same time, in our anxiety over ISIS, we must be careful not to miss the forest for the trees. There are multiple groups operating in Southeast Asia that are intent on using some form of political violence to further their ends. Many are at odds with each other; not all are seeking affiliation to, or enamored of, ISIS. Indeed, while ISIS appears an immediate concern, a case can be made that the longer term, possibly more resilient, terrorist threat to the region may not come from ISIS but from Jemaah Islamiyah, for reasons explained earlier. It is also imperative that the threat of terrorism in Southeast Asia be kept in perspective. Whether from ISIS or Jemaah Islamiyah, the threat of terrorism is not an existential one for Southeast Asia. Though eliminating terrorism altogether would be a tall order, the threat is certainly manageable if the correct balance of perspective and policies are taken, and cooperation among regional states is enhanced.

The operational capabilities of Southeast Asian militant and terrorist groups, including those aligned to ISIS, remains limited. There is little evidence that groups have developed the sophistication and know-how to mount mass casualty attacks. However, we must be mindful that given the resilient and evolutionary nature of terrorism in Southeast Asia, this situation could well change. One possible factor that could prompt this change is a deliberate shift of attention of ISIS central to Southeast Asia, leading to the dispatch of hardened fighters to the region. This however, seems unlikely for the present as ISIS is preoccupied with its immediate priority of holding ground in Iraq and Syria, and possibly expanding its fight to Libya and Europe.

ISIS-related activity in Southeast Asia poses no immediate threat to the American homeland. Thus far, there has also not been any indication of any specific desire on the part of ISIS-inspired militants to target offshore American interests such as embassies and/or commercial enterprises. This does not mean however, that there is no need for vigilance. The Jakarta attacks could be indicative of a return to the targeting of foreigners. Meanwhile, U.S.-led anti-ISIS coalition successes in Syria and Iraq might elicit a call from ISIS central to its sympathizers and supporters worldwide to strike at the United States. On this score, it would serve U.S. interests to cooperate even more closely with regional partners in the fight against ISIS, and more generally, terrorism, in Southeast Asia.

[1] There were bomb attacks in Bangkok during this time but these were not linked to ISIS or any other Muslim terrorist groups. There were also bombings in Myanmar in 2013, but the identity of the perpetrators remains unknown.
[2] Edward Delman, “ISIS in the World’s Largest Muslim Country: Why are there so few Indonesians joining the Islamic state?” The Atlantic, January 3, 2016.
[3] Narrated by Ibn 'Umar that the Messenger of Allah said: "O Allah bless us in our Shām! O Allah bless us in our Yemen." They said: "And in our Najd" He said: "O Allah bless us in our Shām! O Allah bless us in our Yemen." They said: "And in our Najd" He said: "Earthquakes are there, and tribulations are there." Or he said: "The horn of Shaitan comes from there." – Jāmi‘ al-Tirmidhi.
[4] Sidney Jones, “Battling ISIS in Indonesia,” New York Times, January 18, 2016.
[5] “Two Chinese Uighurs Killed in Poso Terrorist Shootout,” Jakarta Globe, March 16, 2016.
[6] “Extremist group Jemaah Islamiyah active again, recruiting and collecting funds,” Straits Times, February 15, 2016.
[7] Yuliasri Perdani and Ina Parlina, “Govt to tighten prison security following Ba’asyir’s ‘baiat,” Jakarta Post, July 7, 2015.

While the world appears under siege with daily reports of violence, xenophobia, corruption, and conflict, Piccone points to strong currents of positive change over the last three decades that are pulling the world toward more optimistic long-term scenarios. In 1989, just over two billion people lived in one of the 69 countries considered an electoral democracy. Today, those numbers have nearly doubled, with more than 4 billion people living in one of the world’s 125 electoral democracies. In that same timespan, one billion people have risen out of poverty, death rates for children under the age of five have been cut in half, average incomes have nearly doubled, and millions of boys and girls are in school.

In his new book, “Five Rising Democracies,” Piccone examines how five pivotal countries—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—can play a critical role as both examples and supporters of liberal ideas and practices.

Piccone began the book club discussion by presenting his findings and arguing that the future of a global order based on human rights, democracy, and liberal ideologies largely depends on the fate of these five countries. While geographically separated, these emerging powers, according to Piccone, stand out for their shift from closed societies to more liberal, open and representative systems; for their impressive progress in improving citizens’ living standards; and for the diversity of their populations, underscoring the universality of liberal norms. Listen here:

“These are big, important countries,” Piccone said, “and they all have remarkable stories to tell about their own transformations from illiberal governance to more open and accountable systems.” Watch:

Five rising democracies are important countries

Piccone emphasized that initial progress on political rights and freedoms in these countries has turned more recently to stagnation and “backsliding,” even as countries continue to make substantial gains on economic growth and human development. He recognized that while democracy “moves forwards and backwards, in general the trajectory [in these five countries] is toward progress.” Despite these domestic trends, their foreign policies often diverge from more established powers because they are “not bought in to the western-led international human rights order.” Watch:

Five rising democracies, democracy, and human rights

Piccone also called for a reconsideration of more coercive Western-led methods of democracy-building, pointing in particular to failing efforts in Iraq and Libya. While building democracies and protecting human rights may be a key feature of Western foreign policies, Piccone argued, these nations' own experiences make them distrustful and skeptical of Western motives. He argued the United States and other leading democracies should do a better job of "practicing what they preach" and proposed several potential areas of convergence to support these rising nations’ democratic development and greater involvement in the international liberal order.
Watch:

Five rising democracies skeptical of West

After his presentation, Piccone sat down with James Traub to discuss the inevitable forward and backward movements of these five countries; Piccone’s optimism toward progress; the necessity of good political leadership to move these countries toward greater participation in the international world order; and the importance of diplomatic cooperation between the West and these rising democracies.

Finally, Piccone fielded diverse questions from the audience, where he explained these five countries’ responses to terrorism and argued that “we need to come to terms with democracies’ response to terrorism … the more that we address [terrorism] within a context of rule of law and a concern for privacy, the better our societies will be in the long term.” Watch:

Audio

Authors

Carrie Engel

]]>
Thu, 25 Feb 2016 14:29:00 -0500Carrie Engelhttp://7515766d70db9af98b83-7a8dffca7ab41e0acde077bdb93c9343.r43.cf1.rackcdn.com/160218_RisingDemocracies.mp3
On February 18, Brookings Senior Fellow Ted Piccone was joined by Foreign Policy columnist James Traub for the second installment of the Brookings Book Club, featuring a conversation about Piccone’s new book “Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order” (Brookings Institution Press, 2016).
While the world appears under siege with daily reports of violence, xenophobia, corruption, and conflict, Piccone points to strong currents of positive change over the last three decades that are pulling the world toward more optimistic long-term scenarios. In 1989, just over two billion people lived in one of the 69 countries considered an electoral democracy. Today, those numbers have nearly doubled, with more than 4 billion people living in one of the world’s 125 electoral democracies. In that same timespan, one billion people have risen out of poverty, death rates for children under the age of five have been cut in half, average incomes have nearly doubled, and millions of boys and girls are in school.
In his new book, “Five Rising Democracies,” Piccone examines how five pivotal countries—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—can play a critical role as both examples and supporters of liberal ideas and practices.
Piccone began the book club discussion by presenting his findings and arguing that the future of a global order based on human rights, democracy, and liberal ideologies largely depends on the fate of these five countries. While geographically separated, these emerging powers, according to Piccone, stand out for their shift from closed societies to more liberal, open and representative systems; for their impressive progress in improving citizens’ living standards; and for the diversity of their populations, underscoring the universality of liberal norms. Listen here:
previous play pause next mute unmute
- Five rising democracies and the fate of the international liberal order 1:09:27
- Download (Help) - Get Code - Brookings
Right-click (ctl+click for Mac) on 'Download' and select 'save link as..' Get Code
Copy and paste the embed code above to your website or blog.
“These are big, important countries,” Piccone said, “and they all have remarkable stories to tell about their own transformations from illiberal governance to more open and accountable systems.” Watch:
Five rising democracies are important countries
Piccone emphasized that initial progress on political rights and freedoms in these countries has turned more recently to stagnation and “backsliding,” even as countries continue to make substantial gains on economic growth and human development. He recognized that while democracy “moves forwards and backwards, in general the trajectory [in these five countries] is toward progress.” Despite these domestic trends, their foreign policies often diverge from more established powers because they are “not bought in to the western-led international human rights order.” Watch:
Five rising democracies, democracy, and human rights
Piccone also called for a reconsideration of more coercive Western-led methods of democracy-building, pointing in particular to failing efforts in Iraq and Libya. While building democracies and protecting human rights may be a key feature of Western foreign policies, Piccone argued, these nations' own experiences make them distrustful and skeptical of Western motives. He argued the United States and other leading democracies should do a better job of "practicing what they preach" and proposed several potential areas of convergence to support these rising nations’ democratic development and greater involvement in the international liberal order.
Watch:
Five rising democracies skeptical of West
After his presentation, Piccone sat down with James Traub to discuss the inevitable ... On February 18, Brookings Senior Fellow Ted Piccone was joined by Foreign Policy columnist James Traub for the second installment of the Brookings Book Club, featuring a conversation about Piccone’s new book “

While the world appears under siege with daily reports of violence, xenophobia, corruption, and conflict, Piccone points to strong currents of positive change over the last three decades that are pulling the world toward more optimistic long-term scenarios. In 1989, just over two billion people lived in one of the 69 countries considered an electoral democracy. Today, those numbers have nearly doubled, with more than 4 billion people living in one of the world’s 125 electoral democracies. In that same timespan, one billion people have risen out of poverty, death rates for children under the age of five have been cut in half, average incomes have nearly doubled, and millions of boys and girls are in school.

In his new book, “Five Rising Democracies,” Piccone examines how five pivotal countries—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—can play a critical role as both examples and supporters of liberal ideas and practices.

Piccone began the book club discussion by presenting his findings and arguing that the future of a global order based on human rights, democracy, and liberal ideologies largely depends on the fate of these five countries. While geographically separated, these emerging powers, according to Piccone, stand out for their shift from closed societies to more liberal, open and representative systems; for their impressive progress in improving citizens’ living standards; and for the diversity of their populations, underscoring the universality of liberal norms. Listen here:

“These are big, important countries,” Piccone said, “and they all have remarkable stories to tell about their own transformations from illiberal governance to more open and accountable systems.” Watch:

Five rising democracies are important countries

Piccone emphasized that initial progress on political rights and freedoms in these countries has turned more recently to stagnation and “backsliding,” even as countries continue to make substantial gains on economic growth and human development. He recognized that while democracy “moves forwards and backwards, in general the trajectory [in these five countries] is toward progress.” Despite these domestic trends, their foreign policies often diverge from more established powers because they are “not bought in to the western-led international human rights order.” Watch:

Five rising democracies, democracy, and human rights

Piccone also called for a reconsideration of more coercive Western-led methods of democracy-building, pointing in particular to failing efforts in Iraq and Libya. While building democracies and protecting human rights may be a key feature of Western foreign policies, Piccone argued, these nations' own experiences make them distrustful and skeptical of Western motives. He argued the United States and other leading democracies should do a better job of "practicing what they preach" and proposed several potential areas of convergence to support these rising nations’ democratic development and greater involvement in the international liberal order.
Watch:

Five rising democracies skeptical of West

After his presentation, Piccone sat down with James Traub to discuss the inevitable forward and backward movements of these five countries; Piccone’s optimism toward progress; the necessity of good political leadership to move these countries toward greater participation in the international world order; and the importance of diplomatic cooperation between the West and these rising democracies.

Finally, Piccone fielded diverse questions from the audience, where he explained these five countries’ responses to terrorism and argued that “we need to come to terms with democracies’ response to terrorism … the more that we address [terrorism] within a context of rule of law and a concern for privacy, the better our societies will be in the long term.” Watch:

Audio

Authors

Carrie Engel

]]>
http://www.brookings.edu/events/2016/02/18-five-rising-democracies-piccone?rssid=indonesia{C16B6ABB-5275-496A-9307-13ED2AF7E23A}http://webfeeds.brookings.edu/~/138664745/0/brookingsrss/topics/indonesia~Five-rising-democracies-and-the-fate-of-the-international-liberal-orderFive rising democracies and the fate of the international liberal order

Event Information

Is the global march toward democracy and human rights inevitable or facing a new crisis of confidence? Shifting power balances in the world are shaking the foundations of the international liberal order, revealing new fault lines at the intersection of international security and human rights. Will these new global trends help or hinder the world’s long struggle for human rights and democracy? The answer depends on the role of five rising democracies—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey and Indonesia—as both examples and supporters of liberal ideas and practices.

On February 18, Brookings hosted senior fellow and author Ted Piccone for its second Brookings Book Club to address these questions and more from his new book, "Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order" (Brookings Press, 2016). Piccone was joined by James Traub of Foreign Policy magazine and New York University for a lively discussion followed by audience Q&A.

Audio

Transcript

Event Materials

]]>
Thu, 18 Feb 2016 17:30:00 -0500http://7515766d70db9af98b83-7a8dffca7ab41e0acde077bdb93c9343.r43.cf1.rackcdn.com/160218_RisingDemocracies.mp3
Event Information
February 18, 2016
5:30 PM - 7:00 PM EST
Falk Auditorium
Brookings Institution
1775 Massachusetts Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20036 Register for the Event
Is the global march toward democracy and human rights inevitable or facing a new crisis of confidence? Shifting power balances in the world are shaking the foundations of the international liberal order, revealing new fault lines at the intersection of international security and human rights. Will these new global trends help or hinder the world's long struggle for human rights and democracy? The answer depends on the role of five rising democracies—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey and Indonesia—as both examples and supporters of liberal ideas and practices.
On February 18, Brookings hosted senior fellow and author Ted Piccone for its second Brookings Book Club to address these questions and more from his new book, "Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order" (Brookings Press, 2016). Piccone was joined by James Traub of Foreign Policy magazine and New York University for a lively discussion followed by audience Q&A.
Event Information
February 18, 2016
5:30 PM - 7:00 PM EST
Falk Auditorium
Brookings Institution
1775 Massachusetts Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20036 Register for the Event
Is the global march toward democracy and human rights inevitable or ...

Event Information

Is the global march toward democracy and human rights inevitable or facing a new crisis of confidence? Shifting power balances in the world are shaking the foundations of the international liberal order, revealing new fault lines at the intersection of international security and human rights. Will these new global trends help or hinder the world’s long struggle for human rights and democracy? The answer depends on the role of five rising democracies—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey and Indonesia—as both examples and supporters of liberal ideas and practices.

On February 18, Brookings hosted senior fellow and author Ted Piccone for its second Brookings Book Club to address these questions and more from his new book, "Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order" (Brookings Press, 2016). Piccone was joined by James Traub of Foreign Policy magazine and New York University for a lively discussion followed by audience Q&A.

Audio

Transcript

Event Materials

]]>
http://www.brookings.edu/research/interactives/2016/five-rising-democracies?rssid=indonesia{6AC51827-5DD1-497C-939B-429474E6D2DB}http://webfeeds.brookings.edu/~/138495163/0/brookingsrss/topics/indonesia~Five-rising-democracies-Trends-at-home-and-abroadFive rising democracies: Trends at home and abroad

]]>
Wed, 17 Feb 2016 09:00:00 -0500

]]>
http://www.brookings.edu/blogs/order-from-chaos/posts/2016/02/17-five-countries-international-liberal-order-piccone?rssid=indonesia{09304F05-5A17-473C-992C-9FFE92B5FD92}http://webfeeds.brookings.edu/~/138495161/0/brookingsrss/topics/indonesia~Is-the-international-liberal-order-dying-These-five-countries-will-decideIs the international liberal order dying? These five countries will decide

Some proclaim a crisis in confidence among leading democracies as they wrestle with economic downturns, persistent inequality, growing migration demands, and political stalemate. One need only look to the catastrophe unfolding in the Middle East to conclude that we have entered a new, more dangerous period that threatens fundamental precepts of the international liberal order constructed over the last 70 years.

Rising tides?

But is it really so dire? Strong currents of change that have taken shape since the early 1990s are pulling toward more optimistic scenarios:

the number of people living in systems that give them a voice in electoral democracies has doubled since 1989 to over four billion,

one billion people have risen out of poverty,

the death rate for children under five has been cut in half,

more people are living longer and healthier lives,

millions more girls and boys are enrolled in school,

deaths from conflict in the developing world have fallen by 75 percent,

average incomes have nearly doubled, and

food production has increased by half.

The Sustainable Development Goals approved by world leaders last September set forth a list of ambitious but achievable targets designed to build on these successes, and climate change is finally getting the collective attention and action it deserves. The international machinery to address human rights violations has never been more responsive to the growing demands for monitoring and accountability of abuses.

Despite these more positive features of the international liberal order, its fate has never felt more precarious. Various geopolitical and economic factors—aggressive moves by China and Russia to stifle dissent and disrupt international norms as they cope with economic downshifts, as well as the spreading instability and conflict in the Arab world—exacerbate fears that we may be reaching a tipping point in which our collective efforts to build a more peaceful, democratic, and prosperous world will be replaced by a much more divisive and chaotic situation.

New kids on the global power bloc

In this sea of uncertainty stand five rising democracies: India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia. Their fortunes will likely play a decisive role in the world’s ability to sustain and strengthen the international liberal order.

The good news is that each of these diverse countries—which collectively represent 25 percent of the world’s population—has emerged from painful periods of dictatorship, apartheid, and colonialism to embark on a path toward more open societies, improved human development, and more widespread prosperity. Their average GDP growth rates over the past 30 years have been consistently above the global average and until 2014 regularly outperformed China on a per capita basis. Since their respective transitions to more liberal and competitive systems of political and economic governance, they have made major strides in securing political rights and civil liberties. They’ve also reduced debt and controlled inflation, and made significant improvements in key dimensions of human development (defined as a long and healthy life, access to knowledge, and a decent standard of living). Life expectancy improved, poverty rates dropped, literacy grew, and infant and maternal mortality fell significantly. Most importantly, they achieved these outcomes in tandem with democratization, underscoring the virtuous circle of political and economic liberalization and offering a positive antidote to the restrictive model of China’s state-dominant development.

On the negative side, it is increasingly clear that all five countries have a long way to go to secure democratic stability for their growing populations. Recent indicators are indeed worrisome, particularly in Turkey under President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, where significant backsliding in freedom of the media and Internet and reconciliation with the minority Kurdish population are well documented. The entrenched power of the African National Congress in South Africa is breeding corruption and popular frustration with dashed expectations. A twin political and economic crisis in Brazil is raising serious doubts that its fractious political system can keep the country on course. And Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s reluctance to keep his Hinduvta supporters in check and govern on behalf of all Indians is complicating the country’s otherwise resilient economy.

Overall, compared with other democracies, these five are neither shining stars nor declining laggards. A sustained deterioration of their otherwise positive trajectories, however, would send a very bad signal about the ability of liberal democracies to deliver tangible benefits for their citizens.

Join the club

Even more worrisome, perhaps, is the unwillingness of these five countries to step up on the global stage to the responsibilities that come with their growing legitimacy as liberal democracies. Although they’ve increased contributions to international peacekeeping and humanitarian assistance, their foreign policies largely remain stuck in old-fashioned concepts of noninterference in other states’ concerns, or swing unpredictably between interest-based strategic autonomy and an erratic concern for democratic progress and human rights around the world. Determined to be friends to all and enemies of none, they choose to sit on the sidelines in the face of obvious threats to the international liberal order.

Long memories of external support for anti-democratic forces in their own countries and more recent experiences with heavy-handed interventions in places like Libya and Iraq position them against the West when it comes to collective action to defend international peace and security. The concept that expansion of democracy and human rights around the world will lead to better security and development outcomes—which undergirds the marriage of interests and values that drives much of the West’s foreign policy agenda—is largely missing from their thinking. And stakeholders from parliaments, think tanks, the media, and NGOs are only beginning to catch up to their governments’ mixed records. The result is a widening gap between these countries’ status as liberal democracies and their behavior as responsible global leaders.

If we are to sustain the positive trends toward more open societies and greater international cooperation against threats to our common humanity, we will need to find new ways to consolidate and modernize the global consensus behind universal norms. For starters, established democracies need to practice at home what they preach abroad. They also need to revisit their tendency to intervene first and ask permission later and instead pursue diplomatic approaches that include rising democracies in meaningful ways.

Emerging powers should reconcile their embrace of democratic norms at home with a more robust approach to support political reforms abroad. A concerted effort should be undertaken by all democracies to find common ground on priorities like civil society freedoms, economic and social rights, quality education for women and girls, anti-corruption and freedom of information, and the Internet. The United States should use its current presidency of the Community of Democracies to build such a consensus among both old and new democracies. If these steps are taken, the fate of the international liberal order will stand a much better chance of coming out of its current crisis even stronger.

Authors

]]>
Wed, 17 Feb 2016 09:00:00 -0500Ted Piccone
The world appears under siege from dark forces of violence, xenophobia, corruption, and conflict. The latest reporting from watchdogs like Freedom House, Transparency International and Human Rights Watch remind us that recent trends are negative; democracy is in recession; and progress toward peace, development, and human rights is waning.
Some proclaim a crisis in confidence among leading democracies as they wrestle with economic downturns, persistent inequality, growing migration demands, and political stalemate. One need only look to the catastrophe unfolding in the Middle East to conclude that we have entered a new, more dangerous period that threatens fundamental precepts of the international liberal order constructed over the last 70 years.
Rising tides?
But is it really so dire? Strong currents of change that have taken shape since the early 1990s are pulling toward more optimistic scenarios:
- the number of people living in systems that give them a voice in electoral democracies has doubled since 1989 to over four billion, - one billion people have risen out of poverty, - the death rate for children under five has been cut in half, - more people are living longer and healthier lives, - millions more girls and boys are enrolled in school, - deaths from conflict in the developing world have fallen by 75 percent, - average incomes have nearly doubled, and - food production has increased by half.
The Sustainable Development Goals approved by world leaders last September set forth a list of ambitious but achievable targets designed to build on these successes, and climate change is finally getting the collective attention and action it deserves. The international machinery to address human rights violations has never been more responsive to the growing demands for monitoring and accountability of abuses.
Despite these more positive features of the international liberal order, its fate has never felt more precarious. Various geopolitical and economic factors—aggressive moves by China and Russia to stifle dissent and disrupt international norms as they cope with economic downshifts, as well as the spreading instability and conflict in the Arab world—exacerbate fears that we may be reaching a tipping point in which our collective efforts to build a more peaceful, democratic, and prosperous world will be replaced by a much more divisive and chaotic situation.
New kids on the global power bloc
In this sea of uncertainty stand five rising democracies: India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia. Their fortunes will likely play a decisive role in the world’s ability to sustain and strengthen the international liberal order.
The good news is that each of these diverse countries—which collectively represent 25 percent of the world’s population—has emerged from painful periods of dictatorship, apartheid, and colonialism to embark on a path toward more open societies, improved human development, and more widespread prosperity. Their average GDP growth rates over the past 30 years have been consistently above the global average and until 2014 regularly outperformed China on a per capita basis. Since their respective transitions to more liberal and competitive systems of political and economic governance, they have made major strides in securing political rights and civil liberties. They’ve also reduced debt and controlled inflation, and made significant improvements in key dimensions of human development (defined as a long and healthy life, access to knowledge, and a decent standard of living). Life expectancy improved, poverty rates dropped, literacy grew, and infant and maternal mortality fell significantly. Most importantly, they achieved these outcomes in tandem with democratization, underscoring the virtuous circle of political and economic liberalization and offering a positive antidote to the ...
The world appears under siege from dark forces of violence, xenophobia, corruption, and conflict. The latest reporting from watchdogs like Freedom House, Transparency International and Human Rights Watch remind us that recent trends are negative;

Some proclaim a crisis in confidence among leading democracies as they wrestle with economic downturns, persistent inequality, growing migration demands, and political stalemate. One need only look to the catastrophe unfolding in the Middle East to conclude that we have entered a new, more dangerous period that threatens fundamental precepts of the international liberal order constructed over the last 70 years.

Rising tides?

But is it really so dire? Strong currents of change that have taken shape since the early 1990s are pulling toward more optimistic scenarios:

the number of people living in systems that give them a voice in electoral democracies has doubled since 1989 to over four billion,

one billion people have risen out of poverty,

the death rate for children under five has been cut in half,

more people are living longer and healthier lives,

millions more girls and boys are enrolled in school,

deaths from conflict in the developing world have fallen by 75 percent,

average incomes have nearly doubled, and

food production has increased by half.

The Sustainable Development Goals approved by world leaders last September set forth a list of ambitious but achievable targets designed to build on these successes, and climate change is finally getting the collective attention and action it deserves. The international machinery to address human rights violations has never been more responsive to the growing demands for monitoring and accountability of abuses.

Despite these more positive features of the international liberal order, its fate has never felt more precarious. Various geopolitical and economic factors—aggressive moves by China and Russia to stifle dissent and disrupt international norms as they cope with economic downshifts, as well as the spreading instability and conflict in the Arab world—exacerbate fears that we may be reaching a tipping point in which our collective efforts to build a more peaceful, democratic, and prosperous world will be replaced by a much more divisive and chaotic situation.

New kids on the global power bloc

In this sea of uncertainty stand five rising democracies: India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia. Their fortunes will likely play a decisive role in the world’s ability to sustain and strengthen the international liberal order.

The good news is that each of these diverse countries—which collectively represent 25 percent of the world’s population—has emerged from painful periods of dictatorship, apartheid, and colonialism to embark on a path toward more open societies, improved human development, and more widespread prosperity. Their average GDP growth rates over the past 30 years have been consistently above the global average and until 2014 regularly outperformed China on a per capita basis. Since their respective transitions to more liberal and competitive systems of political and economic governance, they have made major strides in securing political rights and civil liberties. They’ve also reduced debt and controlled inflation, and made significant improvements in key dimensions of human development (defined as a long and healthy life, access to knowledge, and a decent standard of living). Life expectancy improved, poverty rates dropped, literacy grew, and infant and maternal mortality fell significantly. Most importantly, they achieved these outcomes in tandem with democratization, underscoring the virtuous circle of political and economic liberalization and offering a positive antidote to the restrictive model of China’s state-dominant development.

On the negative side, it is increasingly clear that all five countries have a long way to go to secure democratic stability for their growing populations. Recent indicators are indeed worrisome, particularly in Turkey under President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, where significant backsliding in freedom of the media and Internet and reconciliation with the minority Kurdish population are well documented. The entrenched power of the African National Congress in South Africa is breeding corruption and popular frustration with dashed expectations. A twin political and economic crisis in Brazil is raising serious doubts that its fractious political system can keep the country on course. And Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s reluctance to keep his Hinduvta supporters in check and govern on behalf of all Indians is complicating the country’s otherwise resilient economy.

Overall, compared with other democracies, these five are neither shining stars nor declining laggards. A sustained deterioration of their otherwise positive trajectories, however, would send a very bad signal about the ability of liberal democracies to deliver tangible benefits for their citizens.

Join the club

Even more worrisome, perhaps, is the unwillingness of these five countries to step up on the global stage to the responsibilities that come with their growing legitimacy as liberal democracies. Although they’ve increased contributions to international peacekeeping and humanitarian assistance, their foreign policies largely remain stuck in old-fashioned concepts of noninterference in other states’ concerns, or swing unpredictably between interest-based strategic autonomy and an erratic concern for democratic progress and human rights around the world. Determined to be friends to all and enemies of none, they choose to sit on the sidelines in the face of obvious threats to the international liberal order.

Long memories of external support for anti-democratic forces in their own countries and more recent experiences with heavy-handed interventions in places like Libya and Iraq position them against the West when it comes to collective action to defend international peace and security. The concept that expansion of democracy and human rights around the world will lead to better security and development outcomes—which undergirds the marriage of interests and values that drives much of the West’s foreign policy agenda—is largely missing from their thinking. And stakeholders from parliaments, think tanks, the media, and NGOs are only beginning to catch up to their governments’ mixed records. The result is a widening gap between these countries’ status as liberal democracies and their behavior as responsible global leaders.

If we are to sustain the positive trends toward more open societies and greater international cooperation against threats to our common humanity, we will need to find new ways to consolidate and modernize the global consensus behind universal norms. For starters, established democracies need to practice at home what they preach abroad. They also need to revisit their tendency to intervene first and ask permission later and instead pursue diplomatic approaches that include rising democracies in meaningful ways.

Emerging powers should reconcile their embrace of democratic norms at home with a more robust approach to support political reforms abroad. A concerted effort should be undertaken by all democracies to find common ground on priorities like civil society freedoms, economic and social rights, quality education for women and girls, anti-corruption and freedom of information, and the Internet. The United States should use its current presidency of the Community of Democracies to build such a consensus among both old and new democracies. If these steps are taken, the fate of the international liberal order will stand a much better chance of coming out of its current crisis even stronger.

“These countries show that you can have democratization and improvements in political freedom and at the same time grow your economies and improve in terms of human development,” Piccone says. In the podcast, Piccone provides an overview of each of the five nations highlighted in his new book, “Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order,” and how their economic, social, and political development allows them greater access in global politics.

Also in this episode, “Steve Hess Stories” with Senior Fellow EmeritusStephen Hess.

Authors

]]>
Fri, 12 Feb 2016 10:25:00 -0500Ted Piccone, Fred Dews and Bill Finan
Ted Piccone, a senior fellow in the Project on International Order and Strategy discusses the five rising democracies; Brazil, South Africa, India, Indonesia, and Turkey and their role in the international liberal order.
“These countries show that you can have democratization and improvements in political freedom and at the same time grow your economies and improve in terms of human development,” Piccone says. In the podcast, Piccone provides an overview of each of the five nations highlighted in his new book, “Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order,” and how their economic, social, and political development allows them greater access in global politics.
Also in this episode, “Steve Hess Stories” with Senior Fellow Emeritus Stephen Hess.
Show Notes
Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order
INTERACTIVE: Five Rising Democracies - Trends at home and abroad
More Steve Hess Stories on SoundCloud
Subscribe to the Brookings Cafeteria on iTunes, listen on Stitcher, and send feedback email to BCP@Brookings.edu.
Authors
- Ted Piccone- Fred Dews- Bill Finan
Ted Piccone, a senior fellow in the Project on International Order and Strategy discusses the five rising democracies; Brazil, South Africa, India, Indonesia, and Turkey and their role in the international liberal order.

“These countries show that you can have democratization and improvements in political freedom and at the same time grow your economies and improve in terms of human development,” Piccone says. In the podcast, Piccone provides an overview of each of the five nations highlighted in his new book, “Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order,” and how their economic, social, and political development allows them greater access in global politics.

Also in this episode, “Steve Hess Stories” with Senior Fellow EmeritusStephen Hess.

Authors

]]>
http://www.brookings.edu/blogs/up-front/posts/2016/02/10-emerging-powers-future-of-democracy-piccone?rssid=indonesia{2600F408-F784-43EC-9FA6-AADACB21B15A}http://webfeeds.brookings.edu/~/137109937/0/brookingsrss/topics/indonesia~Why-five-emerging-powers-may-determine-the-future-of-democracy-around-the-worldWhy five emerging powers may determine the future of democracy around the world

Editors' Note: The world is facing an entrenched recession in terms of democracy, human rights, and rule of law, writes Ted Piccone. As he argues in his new book, five emerging powers from around the world—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—will determine if and how the global democracy and human rights regime constructed over the last 70 years can survive. This post originally appeared on the National Endowment for Democracy’s “Resurgent Dictatorship” blog.

As documented in a slew of recent reports from Freedom House, Transparency International and Human Rights Watch, the world is facing an entrenched recession in terms of democracy, human rights, and rule of law. This phenomenon is affecting societies both on and off the democratic path. To make matters worse, authoritarians are learning how to consolidate their illiberal regimes and organize internationally to withstand and undermine international scrutiny and accountability to universal norms.

To push back against the so-called authoritarian resurgence, democracies from North and South need to join hands in a renewed effort to strengthen their own democratic practices at home and build pro-democracy coalitions internationally. As I argue in my new book, Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order, five emerging powers from every corner of the globe—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—will determine if and how the global democracy and human rights regime constructed over the last 70 years can survive. Representing 25 percent of the world’s population, these five countries have made tremendous progress since their historic transitions toward political and economic liberalization. But they have checkered records when it comes to validating and enforcing fundamental norms beyond their borders.

Like many other new and transitioning democracies, these five states face two principal challenges when it comes to joining forces with other like-minded democratic governments. First, they are mainly preoccupied with their own domestic affairs, particularly with closing the persistent gap between their national development goals and actual outcomes. When they come to the table to discuss cooperation on human rights, they want to know how more developed democracies can help them address fundamental challenges like clean water, adequate housing, quality education and health care that their populations rightly demand.

Second, they look at Western strategies to promote democracy and human rights with a very jaundiced eye. Their own national histories of colonialism, apartheid, and military dictatorship supported by external forces, alongside more recent misadventures in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Libya, push them away from joining more coercive efforts at regime change and humanitarian intervention. The global economic downturn, which is hitting Brazil and South Africa especially hard, further restrains their regional and global ambitions, for better or worse.

Despite this ambivalence, it wouldn’t take much for democracies to find common ground around some basic principles and initiatives to shore up the democratic wave of the late 20th century. For starters, there is strong consensus around the fundamental norms and practices of democracy and human rights, both as goods in and of themselves and as instrumental values that encourage better development, greater security, and stronger societies. Second, there is a decent track record of cooperation on positive initiatives like the Open Government Partnership, the United Nations Democracy Fund, election monitoring, and even, at times, on human rights matters at the United Nations.

To build on these measures, both established and emerging democracies need to recognize their common interest in supporting and strengthening democratic values and practices. They should identify a set of practical priorities with win-win benefits for their own societies and other liberalizing countries. These include strengthening the rule of law to fight corruption and impunity; defending civil society; delivering rights to a basic quality of life, including quality education for women and girls; and expanding rights to information and an unhampered Internet. They should also redouble efforts to support states like Myanmar, Nigeria, Burkina Faso, Honduras, Hungary, and Tunisia in their shaky transitions to democracy.

In the summer of 2017, the U.S. Presidency of the Community of Democracies will culminate in a ministerial meeting in Washington. It will be a welcome opportunity to bring these elements together in a global coalition of democracies committed to realizing an oft-proclaimed vision of peace, development, and prosperity. This kind of concerted effort, led by new and old democracies alike, is the sine qua non of any strategy to address the autocrats’ claims to legitimacy on the world stage.

Authors

Publication: The National Endowment for Democracy’s “Resurgent Dictatorship”

]]>
Wed, 10 Feb 2016 12:40:00 -0500Ted Piccone
Editors' Note: The world is facing an entrenched recession in terms of democracy, human rights, and rule of law, writes Ted Piccone. As he argues in his new book, five emerging powers from around the world—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—will determine if and how the global democracy and human rights regime constructed over the last 70 years can survive. This post originally appeared on the National Endowment for Democracy's “Resurgent Dictatorship” blog.
As documented in a slew of recent reports from Freedom House, Transparency International and Human Rights Watch, the world is facing an entrenched recession in terms of democracy, human rights, and rule of law. This phenomenon is affecting societies both on and off the democratic path. To make matters worse, authoritarians are learning how to consolidate their illiberal regimes and organize internationally to withstand and undermine international scrutiny and accountability to universal norms.
To push back against the so-called authoritarian resurgence, democracies from North and South need to join hands in a renewed effort to strengthen their own democratic practices at home and build pro-democracy coalitions internationally. As I argue in my new book, Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order, five emerging powers from every corner of the globe—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—will determine if and how the global democracy and human rights regime constructed over the last 70 years can survive. Representing 25 percent of the world's population, these five countries have made tremendous progress since their historic transitions toward political and economic liberalization. But they have checkered records when it comes to validating and enforcing fundamental norms beyond their borders.
Like many other new and transitioning democracies, these five states face two principal challenges when it comes to joining forces with other like-minded democratic governments. First, they are mainly preoccupied with their own domestic affairs, particularly with closing the persistent gap between their national development goals and actual outcomes. When they come to the table to discuss cooperation on human rights, they want to know how more developed democracies can help them address fundamental challenges like clean water, adequate housing, quality education and health care that their populations rightly demand.
Second, they look at Western strategies to promote democracy and human rights with a very jaundiced eye. Their own national histories of colonialism, apartheid, and military dictatorship supported by external forces, alongside more recent misadventures in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Libya, push them away from joining more coercive efforts at regime change and humanitarian intervention. The global economic downturn, which is hitting Brazil and South Africa especially hard, further restrains their regional and global ambitions, for better or worse.
Despite this ambivalence, it wouldn't take much for democracies to find common ground around some basic principles and initiatives to shore up the democratic wave of the late 20th century. For starters, there is strong consensus around the fundamental norms and practices of democracy and human rights, both as goods in and of themselves and as instrumental values that encourage better development, greater security, and stronger societies. Second, there is a decent track record of cooperation on positive initiatives like the Open Government Partnership, the United Nations Democracy Fund, election monitoring, and even, at times, on human rights matters at the United Nations.
To build on these measures, both established and emerging democracies need to recognize their common interest in supporting and strengthening democratic values and practices. They should identify a set of practical priorities with win-win benefits for their ...
Editors' Note: The world is facing an entrenched recession in terms of democracy, human rights, and rule of law, writes Ted Piccone. As he argues in his new book, five emerging powers from around the world—India, Brazil, South Africa, ...

Editors' Note: The world is facing an entrenched recession in terms of democracy, human rights, and rule of law, writes Ted Piccone. As he argues in his new book, five emerging powers from around the world—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—will determine if and how the global democracy and human rights regime constructed over the last 70 years can survive. This post originally appeared on the National Endowment for Democracy’s “Resurgent Dictatorship” blog.

As documented in a slew of recent reports from Freedom House, Transparency International and Human Rights Watch, the world is facing an entrenched recession in terms of democracy, human rights, and rule of law. This phenomenon is affecting societies both on and off the democratic path. To make matters worse, authoritarians are learning how to consolidate their illiberal regimes and organize internationally to withstand and undermine international scrutiny and accountability to universal norms.

To push back against the so-called authoritarian resurgence, democracies from North and South need to join hands in a renewed effort to strengthen their own democratic practices at home and build pro-democracy coalitions internationally. As I argue in my new book, Five Rising Democracies and the Fate of the International Liberal Order, five emerging powers from every corner of the globe—India, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and Indonesia—will determine if and how the global democracy and human rights regime constructed over the last 70 years can survive. Representing 25 percent of the world’s population, these five countries have made tremendous progress since their historic transitions toward political and economic liberalization. But they have checkered records when it comes to validating and enforcing fundamental norms beyond their borders.

Like many other new and transitioning democracies, these five states face two principal challenges when it comes to joining forces with other like-minded democratic governments. First, they are mainly preoccupied with their own domestic affairs, particularly with closing the persistent gap between their national development goals and actual outcomes. When they come to the table to discuss cooperation on human rights, they want to know how more developed democracies can help them address fundamental challenges like clean water, adequate housing, quality education and health care that their populations rightly demand.

Second, they look at Western strategies to promote democracy and human rights with a very jaundiced eye. Their own national histories of colonialism, apartheid, and military dictatorship supported by external forces, alongside more recent misadventures in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Libya, push them away from joining more coercive efforts at regime change and humanitarian intervention. The global economic downturn, which is hitting Brazil and South Africa especially hard, further restrains their regional and global ambitions, for better or worse.

Despite this ambivalence, it wouldn’t take much for democracies to find common ground around some basic principles and initiatives to shore up the democratic wave of the late 20th century. For starters, there is strong consensus around the fundamental norms and practices of democracy and human rights, both as goods in and of themselves and as instrumental values that encourage better development, greater security, and stronger societies. Second, there is a decent track record of cooperation on positive initiatives like the Open Government Partnership, the United Nations Democracy Fund, election monitoring, and even, at times, on human rights matters at the United Nations.

To build on these measures, both established and emerging democracies need to recognize their common interest in supporting and strengthening democratic values and practices. They should identify a set of practical priorities with win-win benefits for their own societies and other liberalizing countries. These include strengthening the rule of law to fight corruption and impunity; defending civil society; delivering rights to a basic quality of life, including quality education for women and girls; and expanding rights to information and an unhampered Internet. They should also redouble efforts to support states like Myanmar, Nigeria, Burkina Faso, Honduras, Hungary, and Tunisia in their shaky transitions to democracy.

In the summer of 2017, the U.S. Presidency of the Community of Democracies will culminate in a ministerial meeting in Washington. It will be a welcome opportunity to bring these elements together in a global coalition of democracies committed to realizing an oft-proclaimed vision of peace, development, and prosperity. This kind of concerted effort, led by new and old democracies alike, is the sine qua non of any strategy to address the autocrats’ claims to legitimacy on the world stage.

On January 14, militants killed four civilians and wounded at least 20 in a terrorist attack in Jakarta, in the first successful operation that the self-proclaimed Islamic State (also known as ISIS) has launched in Southeast Asia. For several months, security officials from several Southeast Asian governments had been warning that ISIS supporters might mount an attack in the region. The signs were ominous: increased chatter on Malay and Indonesian language sites expressing support for ISIS, a steady stream of Southeast Asians departing for conflict zones in Syria and Iraq, and the arrest of ISIS sympathizers in Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore. Indonesian counterterrorism authorities had already received intelligence that militants were planning to mount attacks over the holiday period a couple of weeks earlier, which prompted the arrest of several militants and foiled a potential earlier attack.

When it comes to terrorism, it never takes more than one successful attack to trigger panic in society and overreaction by anxious governments. But when the January 14 attack finally did come, the Indonesian people met it with a spirit of defiance, rallying round the hashtag “We Are Not Afraid.” Meanwhile, during a visit to the scene soon after the attacks, Indonesian President Joko Widodo condemned the acts of violence as terrorism but was also quick to portray that everything “has returned to normal” in Jakarta. This was in marked and welcome contrast to the response of French President François Hollande after the Paris attacks, when he declared that “France was at war.”

The threat that ISIS poses in Indonesia is serious, but it should also not be exaggerated. The Jakarta attack was an amateur operation. The attackers were poorly trained. As many terrorists died in the assault as civilians.

Analysts are still debating whether the leadership of the core ISIS group in Iraq and Syria had directed the attack. But the evidence thus far points to the mastermind being Bahrun Naim, an Indonesian computer technician who had departed to Syria several years ago and is believed to have planned the attack to bolster his claim to be the leader of ISIS in Southeast Asia. In other words, it was an attack by Indonesians at the behest of Indonesians.

In fact, there is no evidence that Southeast Asia features prominently in the strategic calculus of the ISIS leadership in Raqqa. The Southeast Asian fighters from Katibah Nusantara, the Southeast Asian unit based in Syria that Bahrun Naim purportedly leads, appear to be useful devotees who have provided support for ISIS military operations in the Middle East, but they are hardly critical to ISIS’ overall objectives at this point.

In Southeast Asia, ISIS has found sympathizers but few supporters who are willing to organize a real ISIS affiliate. Although ISIS has made some headway in recruitment using the Internet, regional security officials and civil society organizations have worked effectively to preempt and challenge ISIS’ narrative. Moreover, a core element of this narrative—its appeal to socially and economically disenfranchised and marginalized Muslims—has considerably less traction in Southeast Asia than in Europe.

Within Indonesia, most of ISIS’ supporters and sympathizers are drawn from existing jihadist groups. Even in the southern Philippines, where militants are perpetually in search of an ideology to justify violence, most extremists have sworn allegiance to ISIS rather than tried to create an ISIS affiliate. Out of this incoherent ISIS-inspired jihadist community have come multiple claims to leadership by militants such as Bahrun Naim, Bahrumsyah, and Abu Jandal, all based in Syria, or Chep Hernawan, the self-proclaimed “president” of “ISIS Indonesia.”

Likewise, the number of Southeast Asians who have made their way to Iraq and Syria pales in comparison with the number of recruits from Europe and Australia. The Australian scholar Greg Fealy estimates that for every million people in Indonesia, 1.4 have set out to join ISIS. In Malaysia, the number is 8.5. But 14 per million Australians, 18 per million French, and 40 per million Belgians have joined ISIS.

Even the rough count of Southeast Asians joining ISIS numbers may overstate the threat to Southeast Asian nations. First, just as Indonesian and Malaysian fighters are being recruited to fight in Iraq and Syria, they are also dying on the battlefields there. Second, in many cases, those who have set off for Iraq and Syria may well have reservations about the ISIS brand of violence even as they accept it as a means to the end of creating an Islamic utopia. For instance, several Malaysian doctors suspected to be working in ISIS-held territory had gone there as aid workers.

Third, figures bandied about on ISIS’ recruitment from Southeast Asia often do not take into account the significant number of women and children who have made the journey together with fathers and husbands. Sidney Jones, an analyst of extremist and terrorist groups in Indonesia, suggests that women and children make up about 45 percent of Indonesians in ISIS-held territory. So far, there are no indications that women and children are bearing arms within the Katibah Nusantara.

The fact that Southeast Asia is not yet on the radar of the core ISIS leadership, however, or that the number of Southeast Asians fighting under the ISIS standard pales in comparison with the number of Europeans or Australians, should not be grounds for complacency. ISIS will always struggle to gain considerable popularity in Southeast Asia. The social, political, economic, and cultural conditions in Indonesia and Malaysia are such that the appeal of the ISIS brand of extremism will always remain limited. Even in Thailand and the Philippines, where Muslim minorities suffer more persecution, the conditions they face are nowhere near those confronted by alienated Muslims in Europe.

Even if extremists do eventually create an ISIS in Southeast Asia, its origins will lie not in Raqqa but in the fringes of Indonesian society, in the climate of extremism that reemerged amid the political activism that followed the fall of Suharto, Indonesia’s long-ruling dictator, in 1998. In that sense, the threat remains at heart a local phenomenon, even as it may find some form of transnational expression. So although ISIS’ ideology will always receive an airing, it will have to compete with radical and extremist groups of various ideological, political, and operational stripes.

Some analysts have warned that competition among presumptive leaders of ISIS in Indonesia will trigger more violence, and there is every likelihood of that happening. Others worry that ISIS may offer opportunities for existing groups to make common cause. This has not happened yet. The fallout between Jemaah Islamiyah and Indonesian ISIS supporters is well documented. But it would be foolhardy to dismiss the possibility of alliances for tactical, if not doctrinal, reasons. There are indications that the rivalry between ISIS and Jabhat al-Nusra in Syria, which Jemaah Islamiyah supports, has started to taper off. There is also evidence that the Indonesian jihadist ideologue, Aman Abdurrahman, has tried to unite disparate pro-ISIS groups. Counterterrorism establishments in the region should tune in closely to any chatter among Indonesian groups that points in this direction.

The world is transfixed on the possibility, however unlikely it may be, that a transnational, violent network might someday span Europe, the Middle East, and all the way to Southeast Asia. Such concerns are not new: recall the Comintern during the Cold War, and al Qaeda just a few years ago. But the real danger is not that the black banner of ISIS will be raised the world over but that the appearance of ISIS would trigger dynamics among existing jihadist groups and personal networks within Indonesia, possibly joined by groups from the Philippines and Malaysia, that may well escalate into further violence.

Authors

]]>
Mon, 08 Feb 2016 00:00:00 -0500Joseph Chinyong Liow
On January 14, militants killed four civilians and wounded at least 20 in a terrorist attack in Jakarta, in the first successful operation that the self-proclaimed Islamic State (also known as ISIS) has launched in Southeast Asia. For several months, security officials from several Southeast Asian governments had been warning that ISIS supporters might mount an attack in the region. The signs were ominous: increased chatter on Malay and Indonesian language sites expressing support for ISIS, a steady stream of Southeast Asians departing for conflict zones in Syria and Iraq, and the arrest of ISIS sympathizers in Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore. Indonesian counterterrorism authorities had already received intelligence that militants were planning to mount attacks over the holiday period a couple of weeks earlier, which prompted the arrest of several militants and foiled a potential earlier attack.
When it comes to terrorism, it never takes more than one successful attack to trigger panic in society and overreaction by anxious governments. But when the January 14 attack finally did come, the Indonesian people met it with a spirit of defiance, rallying round the hashtag “We Are Not Afraid.” Meanwhile, during a visit to the scene soon after the attacks, Indonesian President Joko Widodo condemned the acts of violence as terrorism but was also quick to portray that everything “has returned to normal” in Jakarta. This was in marked and welcome contrast to the response of French President François Hollande after the Paris attacks, when he declared that “France was at war.”
The threat that ISIS poses in Indonesia is serious, but it should also not be exaggerated. The Jakarta attack was an amateur operation. The attackers were poorly trained. As many terrorists died in the assault as civilians.
Analysts are still debating whether the leadership of the core ISIS group in Iraq and Syria had directed the attack. But the evidence thus far points to the mastermind being Bahrun Naim, an Indonesian computer technician who had departed to Syria several years ago and is believed to have planned the attack to bolster his claim to be the leader of ISIS in Southeast Asia. In other words, it was an attack by Indonesians at the behest of Indonesians.
In fact, there is no evidence that Southeast Asia features prominently in the strategic calculus of the ISIS leadership in Raqqa. The Southeast Asian fighters from Katibah Nusantara, the Southeast Asian unit based in Syria that Bahrun Naim purportedly leads, appear to be useful devotees who have provided support for ISIS military operations in the Middle East, but they are hardly critical to ISIS' overall objectives at this point.
In Southeast Asia, ISIS has found sympathizers but few supporters who are willing to organize a real ISIS affiliate. Although ISIS has made some headway in recruitment using the Internet, regional security officials and civil society organizations have worked effectively to preempt and challenge ISIS' narrative. Moreover, a core element of this narrative—its appeal to socially and economically disenfranchised and marginalized Muslims—has considerably less traction in Southeast Asia than in Europe.
Within Indonesia, most of ISIS' supporters and sympathizers are drawn from existing jihadist groups. Even in the southern Philippines, where militants are perpetually in search of an ideology to justify violence, most extremists have sworn allegiance to ISIS rather than tried to create an ISIS affiliate. Out of this incoherent ISIS-inspired jihadist community have come multiple claims to leadership by militants such as Bahrun Naim, Bahrumsyah, and Abu Jandal, all based in Syria, or Chep Hernawan, the self-proclaimed “president” of “ISIS Indonesia.”
Likewise, the number of Southeast Asians who have made their way to Iraq and Syria pales in comparison with the number of recruits from Europe ...
On January 14, militants killed four civilians and wounded at least 20 in a terrorist attack in Jakarta, in the first successful operation that the self-proclaimed Islamic State (also known as ISIS) has launched in Southeast Asia.

On January 14, militants killed four civilians and wounded at least 20 in a terrorist attack in Jakarta, in the first successful operation that the self-proclaimed Islamic State (also known as ISIS) has launched in Southeast Asia. For several months, security officials from several Southeast Asian governments had been warning that ISIS supporters might mount an attack in the region. The signs were ominous: increased chatter on Malay and Indonesian language sites expressing support for ISIS, a steady stream of Southeast Asians departing for conflict zones in Syria and Iraq, and the arrest of ISIS sympathizers in Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore. Indonesian counterterrorism authorities had already received intelligence that militants were planning to mount attacks over the holiday period a couple of weeks earlier, which prompted the arrest of several militants and foiled a potential earlier attack.

When it comes to terrorism, it never takes more than one successful attack to trigger panic in society and overreaction by anxious governments. But when the January 14 attack finally did come, the Indonesian people met it with a spirit of defiance, rallying round the hashtag “We Are Not Afraid.” Meanwhile, during a visit to the scene soon after the attacks, Indonesian President Joko Widodo condemned the acts of violence as terrorism but was also quick to portray that everything “has returned to normal” in Jakarta. This was in marked and welcome contrast to the response of French President François Hollande after the Paris attacks, when he declared that “France was at war.”

The threat that ISIS poses in Indonesia is serious, but it should also not be exaggerated. The Jakarta attack was an amateur operation. The attackers were poorly trained. As many terrorists died in the assault as civilians.

Analysts are still debating whether the leadership of the core ISIS group in Iraq and Syria had directed the attack. But the evidence thus far points to the mastermind being Bahrun Naim, an Indonesian computer technician who had departed to Syria several years ago and is believed to have planned the attack to bolster his claim to be the leader of ISIS in Southeast Asia. In other words, it was an attack by Indonesians at the behest of Indonesians.

In fact, there is no evidence that Southeast Asia features prominently in the strategic calculus of the ISIS leadership in Raqqa. The Southeast Asian fighters from Katibah Nusantara, the Southeast Asian unit based in Syria that Bahrun Naim purportedly leads, appear to be useful devotees who have provided support for ISIS military operations in the Middle East, but they are hardly critical to ISIS’ overall objectives at this point.

In Southeast Asia, ISIS has found sympathizers but few supporters who are willing to organize a real ISIS affiliate. Although ISIS has made some headway in recruitment using the Internet, regional security officials and civil society organizations have worked effectively to preempt and challenge ISIS’ narrative. Moreover, a core element of this narrative—its appeal to socially and economically disenfranchised and marginalized Muslims—has considerably less traction in Southeast Asia than in Europe.

Within Indonesia, most of ISIS’ supporters and sympathizers are drawn from existing jihadist groups. Even in the southern Philippines, where militants are perpetually in search of an ideology to justify violence, most extremists have sworn allegiance to ISIS rather than tried to create an ISIS affiliate. Out of this incoherent ISIS-inspired jihadist community have come multiple claims to leadership by militants such as Bahrun Naim, Bahrumsyah, and Abu Jandal, all based in Syria, or Chep Hernawan, the self-proclaimed “president” of “ISIS Indonesia.”

Likewise, the number of Southeast Asians who have made their way to Iraq and Syria pales in comparison with the number of recruits from Europe and Australia. The Australian scholar Greg Fealy estimates that for every million people in Indonesia, 1.4 have set out to join ISIS. In Malaysia, the number is 8.5. But 14 per million Australians, 18 per million French, and 40 per million Belgians have joined ISIS.

Even the rough count of Southeast Asians joining ISIS numbers may overstate the threat to Southeast Asian nations. First, just as Indonesian and Malaysian fighters are being recruited to fight in Iraq and Syria, they are also dying on the battlefields there. Second, in many cases, those who have set off for Iraq and Syria may well have reservations about the ISIS brand of violence even as they accept it as a means to the end of creating an Islamic utopia. For instance, several Malaysian doctors suspected to be working in ISIS-held territory had gone there as aid workers.

Third, figures bandied about on ISIS’ recruitment from Southeast Asia often do not take into account the significant number of women and children who have made the journey together with fathers and husbands. Sidney Jones, an analyst of extremist and terrorist groups in Indonesia, suggests that women and children make up about 45 percent of Indonesians in ISIS-held territory. So far, there are no indications that women and children are bearing arms within the Katibah Nusantara.

The fact that Southeast Asia is not yet on the radar of the core ISIS leadership, however, or that the number of Southeast Asians fighting under the ISIS standard pales in comparison with the number of Europeans or Australians, should not be grounds for complacency. ISIS will always struggle to gain considerable popularity in Southeast Asia. The social, political, economic, and cultural conditions in Indonesia and Malaysia are such that the appeal of the ISIS brand of extremism will always remain limited. Even in Thailand and the Philippines, where Muslim minorities suffer more persecution, the conditions they face are nowhere near those confronted by alienated Muslims in Europe.

Even if extremists do eventually create an ISIS in Southeast Asia, its origins will lie not in Raqqa but in the fringes of Indonesian society, in the climate of extremism that reemerged amid the political activism that followed the fall of Suharto, Indonesia’s long-ruling dictator, in 1998. In that sense, the threat remains at heart a local phenomenon, even as it may find some form of transnational expression. So although ISIS’ ideology will always receive an airing, it will have to compete with radical and extremist groups of various ideological, political, and operational stripes.

Some analysts have warned that competition among presumptive leaders of ISIS in Indonesia will trigger more violence, and there is every likelihood of that happening. Others worry that ISIS may offer opportunities for existing groups to make common cause. This has not happened yet. The fallout between Jemaah Islamiyah and Indonesian ISIS supporters is well documented. But it would be foolhardy to dismiss the possibility of alliances for tactical, if not doctrinal, reasons. There are indications that the rivalry between ISIS and Jabhat al-Nusra in Syria, which Jemaah Islamiyah supports, has started to taper off. There is also evidence that the Indonesian jihadist ideologue, Aman Abdurrahman, has tried to unite disparate pro-ISIS groups. Counterterrorism establishments in the region should tune in closely to any chatter among Indonesian groups that points in this direction.

The world is transfixed on the possibility, however unlikely it may be, that a transnational, violent network might someday span Europe, the Middle East, and all the way to Southeast Asia. Such concerns are not new: recall the Comintern during the Cold War, and al Qaeda just a few years ago. But the real danger is not that the black banner of ISIS will be raised the world over but that the appearance of ISIS would trigger dynamics among existing jihadist groups and personal networks within Indonesia, possibly joined by groups from the Philippines and Malaysia, that may well escalate into further violence.

We may never know what motivated four men to mount last week’s suicide bomb and gun attacks in Jakarta, Indonesia’s first major terrorist attack since the 2009 twin hotel bombings, but not a very successful one. A statement attributed to the so-called Islamic State of Iraq and al-Syam (ISIS) called them “Islamic State fighters” who were “targeting foreign nationals and the security forces charged with protecting them in the Indonesian capital”.

Two of the four militants were known to Indonesian Police because they had previously been convicted and served jail time for terrorism-related offences. Was their re-engagement in violence foreseeable?

Predicting terrorist recidivism (the chances of a previously convicted terrorist returning to extremism or violence) is not a science; recidivism rates are difficult to calculate when there is no national database tracking arrests, convictions and releases in a timely manner. In 2013, the Indonesian National Counterterrorism Agency BNPT said 25 out of 300 terrorists released from prison had “gone back to their old terror habits”. We estimate the recidivism rate to be at least 15 per cent now based on the 47 cases in Indonesia we found.

What is of greater concern is what these recidivists have been doing:

Five were killed in shoot-outs with police in 2009 and 2010, and two – Sunakim and Muhammad Ali– were killed during last week’s terrorist attack

At least six went to fight in Syria under the ISIS banner

Several started or joined new jihadi groups that have been targeting Indonesian police officers, including Santoso, currently Indonesia’s most wanted fugitive

Two ideologues – Aman Abdurrahman and Abu Bakar Ba’asyir – are even more influential in jihadi circles with their jailhouse publications and fatwas, and especially after they joined the ISIS bandwagon.

Our review of the 47 cases reveals five commonalities.

Most returned to terrorism while on probation for their first offence, i.e. within the first two years of release.

They went back to their old social networks upon release because the ikhwan were the only friends they had. Jemaah Islamiyah as an organization has a strict policy of not including former inmates in closed-door activities in their first two years of freedom (as parolees usually have to report to the authorities during this time). But it did not disavow them or stop them from going to funerals and social occasions.

Their wives supported their continued engagement because their own brothers and fathers are in the network. Some wives are active in their own right, involved in fund-raising activities and a number of online jihad websites.

Prison did not change their ideological beliefs. They continued to believe that jihad is a very critical element in Islamic teaching and they therefore have to keep performing it. For them, jihad is the legitimate use of violence against the enemy of Islam. The only question is when and how to use it.

Many took on more active roles the second time round, especially if they were not previously involved in violence. Almost two thirds of the terrorist recidivists we studied showed escalation in commitment to jihad and a few took on the mantle of leadership on re-entering prison. These veterans use their higher status to recruit other inmates within their own block and the general population, often through religious discussions. Criminal offenders are prepared to follow them because they provide religious guidance as well as security protection.

Terrorist Trajectories, Redux

Our interviews with a number of terrorist recidivists show that they essentially repeated the trajectory that originally brought them into extremist violence. Or they were pulled back in by one of four drivers: friendship, discipleship, group pressure, or economic pressure.

Loyalty to friends and the group may perhaps be the single most important factor in predicting recidivism. Former terrorism offenders tend to go back in mainly because they hang out and mingle with people who share the same ideas.

The recruitment process may be a gradual one of negotiation and discussion. But for former prisoners, the process is much faster because their existing social networks – friends, families and colleagues – are linked to active extremist networks and can provide moral justification for their violent acts.

Extremist media outlets, online and in print, also constantly praise released terrorist inmates as mujahid. In post-conflict areas like Poso, in Central Sulawesi, and the island of Ambon, released terrorist prisoners are hailed as heroes and they enjoy a higher social status. Walking away exacts a high cost.

Group pressure to prove themselves can be great for those who were only on the periphery when first arrested. One young man was sentenced to three years’ jail in 2006 for helping Noordin Top, who had orchestrated three terrorist attacks in Indonesia between 2003 and 2005, escape. Although he did not engage in any violence, he was nick-named Joko Jihad, meaning Joko who believes and engages in jihad. On release in 2008, he apparently felt a need to live up to his name and joined a new terrorist cell that called itself Al-Qaeda Indonesia. He was re-arrested in September 2012 after several attacks on police stations in Solo. The group was also alleged to be planning to make IEDs and had acquired bomb making materials.

Breaking the ties that bind

On the other hand, disillusion can set in when inmates see the hypocritical behavior of their mentors and leaders, causing them to revisit their ideological beliefs and come up with a new identity. The sense of betrayal and abandonment by their group leaders has been cited as a key push factor by former prisoners. “Publicly they said that the police are thaghut (evil), but privately some of them asked the police to help their families economically outside the prison,” one inmate who had taken part in a terrorist attack complained to us. Disgusted with his former leaders, he left the network, went back to school, got married and started a new life.

Our interviews with former terrorism offenders suggest that during their first year of release, many calculate the costs and benefits of returning to their previous group versus starting afresh. Those able to get help from family, friends or NGOs outside the extremist network stand a better chance of slowly disengaging from militancy and creating new social networks. Cutting themselves off from their old friends is not an option many can make immediately. The extremist group was their spiritual home; they felt protected and cared for. The new world is frightening, especially if it means they have to act worldly rather than according to their faith.

Recently released prisoners shared with us dreams of becoming entrepreneurs, envisioning that a small enterprise would not only allow them to raise their families, but give them freedom to develop as they wish. A number of former terrorists have attempted to start a new life by hawking herbal medication, cooked food, and other sundries – small businesses that require no overheads other than ingredients for the products they sell. But these are the lucky ones who have been able to find someone prepared to stake them the seed money to start their businesses. Their guardian angel has usually been a family member or a local NGO. None have received any help from any government program.

The temptation to return to a life of militancy will always be there, especially if the community in which they live constantly equates violence with religious faith, like in Solo where many of the former prisoners live, the region having been a traditional recruiting ground for extremist groups. Those with military skills acquired from JI-run training programs, or battle-hardened from fighting with the MILF (Moro Islamic Liberation Front) in the Philippines, occasionally get requests from aspiring jihadists to share their skills. They need reasons to say no, especially when they tell us that fighting alongside their fellow mujahidin was the best time of their lives. One former prisoner who had a good job said he rejected such requests because it would mean giving up his new life and his new identity as an entrepreneur.

What deradicalization programs?

Until now, the Indonesian government has not found the political will to provide adequate rehabilitation programs for inmates in prisons, or to fund the perpetually under-staffed Parole Office to provide meaningful aftercare services.

In October 2013, an Indonesian corrections chief complained that he did not have a budget for a comprehensive rehabilitation program for terrorist inmates. He did not even have funds to train his prison officers to deal with such prisoners, he told the Indonesian media.

The warden of a large prison was more blunt. He told us in an interview that his staff, most of whom had only high school education, “still hold an old mindset that a terrorist is just like another type of criminal”. He summarized the problem thus:

In a nutshell, our knowledge and skills are only a meter high but the terrorism problem is three meters high. We are now struggling to jump to reach three meters.

Currently, our approach to them is mostly security approach [sic]. Just make sure they follow prison regulations. That is it. With our limited resources, especially budget, we face enormous challenge to deal with them. Densus 88 [the Indonesian Police counterterrorism unit] does not share much information about them. BNPT [the Indonesian National Counter-terrorism Agency] only comes here for certain projects. They just come and go.

The BNPT projects were attempts at deradicalization, experiments using conflict management training, traditional wayang kulit puppet shows and something called Klinik Pancasila, a program to replace terrorist ideology with the principles of the state philosophy that most Indonesians associate with state indoctrination from the time of the Suharto regime. Not surprisingly, the prison officials doubted the effectiveness of these programs, especially since they had not been trained to administer them.

Despite their lack of rigor, these programs were scrutinized intensely by the terrorists themselves. The inmates made clear to us that they saw the deradicalization programs in terms of their benefits versus costs. If a program offers them benefits, they will agree to participate in it to receive the reward. However, if a program might harm them as an individual or as a group, then their argument is that as a mujahid, it is taboo for them to accept any kind of program from thagut, in this case, the Indonesian government.

The prison ideologues took no chances. They used fatwas and peer pressure to prevent their fellow inmates from joining the BNPT programs as well as publications to counter the government’s counter-radicalization arguments. In this narrow worldview, the pro-ISIS ideologue Aman Abdurrahman’s books are treated as knowledgeable sources of discourses on jihad within and beyond the prison walls. Supporters hold book discussions outside jail, which are written up by the extremist websites as irrefutable truth.

Aman has also forbidden his followers from having anything to do with the government, prison officers, police officers, BNPT, and anyone implementing deradicalization programs. But with participating in such programs a condition for early release, this has become an ultimate test of wills. Thus far, the prospect of early freedom seems more enticing than staying in prison under Aman’s rule; many are still applying for remissions, as Sunakim did.

It remains to be seen if the Jakarta attacks will create new resolve in the Indonesian government to implement evidence-based rehabilitation programs for terrorist inmates before releasing them. Local and foreign NGOs can help develop skills training programs and provide seed funding for released prisoners to ”unlock the second prison,” to quote Singapore’s Yellow Ribbon Project. But continued monitoring of these budding entrepreneurs is a job for the authorities, and again the resources are lacking.

In the end, there is no substitute for good public policy and governance in countering violent extremism.

Authors

]]>
Thu, 28 Jan 2016 00:00:00 -0500Susan Sim and Noor Huda Ismail
Editor's note: This essay is the second in a two-part series entitled "From prison to carnage in Jakarta: A tale of two terrorist convicts, their mentor behind bars and the fighter with ISIS."
We may never know what motivated four men to mount last week's suicide bomb and gun attacks in Jakarta, Indonesia's first major terrorist attack since the 2009 twin hotel bombings, but not a very successful one. A statement attributed to the so-called Islamic State of Iraq and al-Syam (ISIS) called them “Islamic State fighters” who were “targeting foreign nationals and the security forces charged with protecting them in the Indonesian capital”.
Two of the four militants were known to Indonesian Police because they had previously been convicted and served jail time for terrorism-related offences. Was their re-engagement in violence foreseeable?
Predicting terrorist recidivism (the chances of a previously convicted terrorist returning to extremism or violence) is not a science; recidivism rates are difficult to calculate when there is no national database tracking arrests, convictions and releases in a timely manner. In 2013, the Indonesian National Counterterrorism Agency BNPT said 25 out of 300 terrorists released from prison had “gone back to their old terror habits”. We estimate the recidivism rate to be at least 15 per cent now based on the 47 cases in Indonesia we found.
What is of greater concern is what these recidivists have been doing:
- Five were killed in shoot-outs with police in 2009 and 2010, and two – Sunakim and Muhammad Ali – were killed during last week's terrorist attack - At least six went to fight in Syria under the ISIS banner - Several started or joined new jihadi groups that have been targeting Indonesian police officers, including Santoso, currently Indonesia's most wanted fugitive - Two ideologues – Aman Abdurrahman and Abu Bakar Ba'asyir – are even more influential in jihadi circles with their jailhouse publications and fatwas, and especially after they joined the ISIS bandwagon.
Our review of the 47 cases reveals five commonalities.
- Most returned to terrorism while on probation for their first offence, i.e. within the first two years of release. - They went back to their old social networks upon release because the ikhwan were the only friends they had. Jemaah Islamiyah as an organization has a strict policy of not including former inmates in closed-door activities in their first two years of freedom (as parolees usually have to report to the authorities during this time). But it did not disavow them or stop them from going to funerals and social occasions. - Their wives supported their continued engagement because their own brothers and fathers are in the network. Some wives are active in their own right, involved in fund-raising activities and a number of online jihad websites. - Prison did not change their ideological beliefs. They continued to believe that jihad is a very critical element in Islamic teaching and they therefore have to keep performing it. For them, jihad is the legitimate use of violence against the enemy of Islam. The only question is when and how to use it. - Many took on more active roles the second time round, especially if they were not previously involved in violence. Almost two thirds of the terrorist recidivists we studied showed escalation in commitment to jihad and a few took on the mantle of leadership on re-entering prison. These veterans use their higher status to recruit other inmates within their own block and the general population, often through religious discussions. Criminal offenders are prepared to follow them because they provide religious guidance as well as security protection.
Terrorist Trajectories, Redux
Our interviews with a number of terrorist recidivists show that they essentially repeated the trajectory that originally brought them into extremist violence. Or they ...
Editor's note: This essay is the second in a two-part series entitled "From prison to carnage in Jakarta: A tale of two terrorist convicts, their mentor behind bars and the fighter with ISIS."
We may never know what motivated four men ...

We may never know what motivated four men to mount last week’s suicide bomb and gun attacks in Jakarta, Indonesia’s first major terrorist attack since the 2009 twin hotel bombings, but not a very successful one. A statement attributed to the so-called Islamic State of Iraq and al-Syam (ISIS) called them “Islamic State fighters” who were “targeting foreign nationals and the security forces charged with protecting them in the Indonesian capital”.

Two of the four militants were known to Indonesian Police because they had previously been convicted and served jail time for terrorism-related offences. Was their re-engagement in violence foreseeable?

Predicting terrorist recidivism (the chances of a previously convicted terrorist returning to extremism or violence) is not a science; recidivism rates are difficult to calculate when there is no national database tracking arrests, convictions and releases in a timely manner. In 2013, the Indonesian National Counterterrorism Agency BNPT said 25 out of 300 terrorists released from prison had “gone back to their old terror habits”. We estimate the recidivism rate to be at least 15 per cent now based on the 47 cases in Indonesia we found.

What is of greater concern is what these recidivists have been doing:

Five were killed in shoot-outs with police in 2009 and 2010, and two – Sunakim and Muhammad Ali– were killed during last week’s terrorist attack

At least six went to fight in Syria under the ISIS banner

Several started or joined new jihadi groups that have been targeting Indonesian police officers, including Santoso, currently Indonesia’s most wanted fugitive

Two ideologues – Aman Abdurrahman and Abu Bakar Ba’asyir – are even more influential in jihadi circles with their jailhouse publications and fatwas, and especially after they joined the ISIS bandwagon.

Our review of the 47 cases reveals five commonalities.

Most returned to terrorism while on probation for their first offence, i.e. within the first two years of release.

They went back to their old social networks upon release because the ikhwan were the only friends they had. Jemaah Islamiyah as an organization has a strict policy of not including former inmates in closed-door activities in their first two years of freedom (as parolees usually have to report to the authorities during this time). But it did not disavow them or stop them from going to funerals and social occasions.

Their wives supported their continued engagement because their own brothers and fathers are in the network. Some wives are active in their own right, involved in fund-raising activities and a number of online jihad websites.

Prison did not change their ideological beliefs. They continued to believe that jihad is a very critical element in Islamic teaching and they therefore have to keep performing it. For them, jihad is the legitimate use of violence against the enemy of Islam. The only question is when and how to use it.

Many took on more active roles the second time round, especially if they were not previously involved in violence. Almost two thirds of the terrorist recidivists we studied showed escalation in commitment to jihad and a few took on the mantle of leadership on re-entering prison. These veterans use their higher status to recruit other inmates within their own block and the general population, often through religious discussions. Criminal offenders are prepared to follow them because they provide religious guidance as well as security protection.

Terrorist Trajectories, Redux

Our interviews with a number of terrorist recidivists show that they essentially repeated the trajectory that originally brought them into extremist violence. Or they were pulled back in by one of four drivers: friendship, discipleship, group pressure, or economic pressure.

Loyalty to friends and the group may perhaps be the single most important factor in predicting recidivism. Former terrorism offenders tend to go back in mainly because they hang out and mingle with people who share the same ideas.

The recruitment process may be a gradual one of negotiation and discussion. But for former prisoners, the process is much faster because their existing social networks – friends, families and colleagues – are linked to active extremist networks and can provide moral justification for their violent acts.

Extremist media outlets, online and in print, also constantly praise released terrorist inmates as mujahid. In post-conflict areas like Poso, in Central Sulawesi, and the island of Ambon, released terrorist prisoners are hailed as heroes and they enjoy a higher social status. Walking away exacts a high cost.

Group pressure to prove themselves can be great for those who were only on the periphery when first arrested. One young man was sentenced to three years’ jail in 2006 for helping Noordin Top, who had orchestrated three terrorist attacks in Indonesia between 2003 and 2005, escape. Although he did not engage in any violence, he was nick-named Joko Jihad, meaning Joko who believes and engages in jihad. On release in 2008, he apparently felt a need to live up to his name and joined a new terrorist cell that called itself Al-Qaeda Indonesia. He was re-arrested in September 2012 after several attacks on police stations in Solo. The group was also alleged to be planning to make IEDs and had acquired bomb making materials.

Breaking the ties that bind

On the other hand, disillusion can set in when inmates see the hypocritical behavior of their mentors and leaders, causing them to revisit their ideological beliefs and come up with a new identity. The sense of betrayal and abandonment by their group leaders has been cited as a key push factor by former prisoners. “Publicly they said that the police are thaghut (evil), but privately some of them asked the police to help their families economically outside the prison,” one inmate who had taken part in a terrorist attack complained to us. Disgusted with his former leaders, he left the network, went back to school, got married and started a new life.

Our interviews with former terrorism offenders suggest that during their first year of release, many calculate the costs and benefits of returning to their previous group versus starting afresh. Those able to get help from family, friends or NGOs outside the extremist network stand a better chance of slowly disengaging from militancy and creating new social networks. Cutting themselves off from their old friends is not an option many can make immediately. The extremist group was their spiritual home; they felt protected and cared for. The new world is frightening, especially if it means they have to act worldly rather than according to their faith.

Recently released prisoners shared with us dreams of becoming entrepreneurs, envisioning that a small enterprise would not only allow them to raise their families, but give them freedom to develop as they wish. A number of former terrorists have attempted to start a new life by hawking herbal medication, cooked food, and other sundries – small businesses that require no overheads other than ingredients for the products they sell. But these are the lucky ones who have been able to find someone prepared to stake them the seed money to start their businesses. Their guardian angel has usually been a family member or a local NGO. None have received any help from any government program.

The temptation to return to a life of militancy will always be there, especially if the community in which they live constantly equates violence with religious faith, like in Solo where many of the former prisoners live, the region having been a traditional recruiting ground for extremist groups. Those with military skills acquired from JI-run training programs, or battle-hardened from fighting with the MILF (Moro Islamic Liberation Front) in the Philippines, occasionally get requests from aspiring jihadists to share their skills. They need reasons to say no, especially when they tell us that fighting alongside their fellow mujahidin was the best time of their lives. One former prisoner who had a good job said he rejected such requests because it would mean giving up his new life and his new identity as an entrepreneur.

What deradicalization programs?

Until now, the Indonesian government has not found the political will to provide adequate rehabilitation programs for inmates in prisons, or to fund the perpetually under-staffed Parole Office to provide meaningful aftercare services.

In October 2013, an Indonesian corrections chief complained that he did not have a budget for a comprehensive rehabilitation program for terrorist inmates. He did not even have funds to train his prison officers to deal with such prisoners, he told the Indonesian media.

The warden of a large prison was more blunt. He told us in an interview that his staff, most of whom had only high school education, “still hold an old mindset that a terrorist is just like another type of criminal”. He summarized the problem thus:

In a nutshell, our knowledge and skills are only a meter high but the terrorism problem is three meters high. We are now struggling to jump to reach three meters.

Currently, our approach to them is mostly security approach [sic]. Just make sure they follow prison regulations. That is it. With our limited resources, especially budget, we face enormous challenge to deal with them. Densus 88 [the Indonesian Police counterterrorism unit] does not share much information about them. BNPT [the Indonesian National Counter-terrorism Agency] only comes here for certain projects. They just come and go.

The BNPT projects were attempts at deradicalization, experiments using conflict management training, traditional wayang kulit puppet shows and something called Klinik Pancasila, a program to replace terrorist ideology with the principles of the state philosophy that most Indonesians associate with state indoctrination from the time of the Suharto regime. Not surprisingly, the prison officials doubted the effectiveness of these programs, especially since they had not been trained to administer them.

Despite their lack of rigor, these programs were scrutinized intensely by the terrorists themselves. The inmates made clear to us that they saw the deradicalization programs in terms of their benefits versus costs. If a program offers them benefits, they will agree to participate in it to receive the reward. However, if a program might harm them as an individual or as a group, then their argument is that as a mujahid, it is taboo for them to accept any kind of program from thagut, in this case, the Indonesian government.

The prison ideologues took no chances. They used fatwas and peer pressure to prevent their fellow inmates from joining the BNPT programs as well as publications to counter the government’s counter-radicalization arguments. In this narrow worldview, the pro-ISIS ideologue Aman Abdurrahman’s books are treated as knowledgeable sources of discourses on jihad within and beyond the prison walls. Supporters hold book discussions outside jail, which are written up by the extremist websites as irrefutable truth.

Aman has also forbidden his followers from having anything to do with the government, prison officers, police officers, BNPT, and anyone implementing deradicalization programs. But with participating in such programs a condition for early release, this has become an ultimate test of wills. Thus far, the prospect of early freedom seems more enticing than staying in prison under Aman’s rule; many are still applying for remissions, as Sunakim did.

It remains to be seen if the Jakarta attacks will create new resolve in the Indonesian government to implement evidence-based rehabilitation programs for terrorist inmates before releasing them. Local and foreign NGOs can help develop skills training programs and provide seed funding for released prisoners to ”unlock the second prison,” to quote Singapore’s Yellow Ribbon Project. But continued monitoring of these budding entrepreneurs is a job for the authorities, and again the resources are lacking.

In the end, there is no substitute for good public policy and governance in countering violent extremism.

Authors

]]>
http://www.brookings.edu/research/opinions/2016/01/22-jakarta-shooting-terrorists-ismail-sim?rssid=indonesia{476038B5-9FF6-468D-952B-4FBB68DE4456}http://webfeeds.brookings.edu/~/134155477/0/brookingsrss/topics/indonesia~From-prison-to-carnage-in-Jakarta-A-tale-of-two-terrorist-convicts-their-mentor-behind-bars-and-the-fighter-with-ISIS-PartFrom prison to carnage in Jakarta: A tale of two terrorist convicts, their mentor behind bars, and the fighter with ISIS (Part 1)

As inmates in two of Indonesia’s largest prisons, Muhammad Ali and Sunakim (alias Afif) could not be more different. One broke out of prison during a riot while the other was quiet and obedient. And yet both died together shooting up the streets of Jakarta on January 14, in homage to a cause promoted by their mentor behind bars and financed by a former cell-mate now fighting with the so-called Islamic State of Iraq and Syam (ISIS).

Sunakim, sentenced to seven years in prison for participating in a terrorist training camp in Aceh, entered Cipinang Prison on the outskirts of Jakarta in December 2011. Unlike several others from the Aceh camp, he gave his captors no trouble. Still the guards should have intervened when he became personal masseur to fellow terrorist convict Aman Abdurrahman, a self-declared takfiri, who denounced all who did not agree with his extremist views as apostate and the Indonesian government in particular as evil.

Muhammad Ali, serving time for being a member of a gang that robbed a bank to fund the Aceh camp, broke out of the Tanjung Gusta Prison in Medan during a riot instigated by his gang leader in 2013. Returned to prison, he was released some time in 2014, just as Indonesia’s jihadi community was finding inspiration in the rising fortunes of ISIS.

Muhammad's spiritual mentor in Medan was also in jail, but when the preacher decided to abandon violence and help the police instead, Muhammad turned to the sermons being broadcast into his prison cell through smuggled audio recordings and cell phones, and decided he liked what Aman Abdurrahman was saying from behind bars in Cipinang.

In some ways “an accidental terrorist”, Aman has never taken part in a terrorist operation. He was arrested for the first time in May 2004 when a bomb went off while he was giving a sermon; someone else had been conducting a bomb-making class in the house. Sentenced to four years in prison, he began translating the Arabic works of Middle Eastern proponents of violent jihad. Friends posted the translations online. In the barren intellectual field of Indonesian jihadism, Aman Abdurrahman became an immediate star. His translations were turned into books and widely discussed. His talks were recorded, inspiring many passionate new recruits throughout Indonesia, who took it upon themselves to recruit others to their self-defined jihadi cause.

Aman hit the lecture circuit on his release. Invited to take part in the Aceh training camp in 2009, he refused but donated money. When the camp was discovered the next year and all its participants, instructors, and financiers arrested, Aman was sentenced to 10 years imprisonment. He was sent to Cipinang Prison, where he was once again united with his followers, including one Sunakim alias Afif, then almost 30 years old.

In Cipinang, with Sunakim ready to massage his tired limbs, Aman received tens of visitors every day, acolytes seeking advice on just about everything. They brought him food, clothes, toiletries, stationery, books, and also typed up his works for publication on a dedicated website.

Prison authorities decided to transfer Aman out to one of the five facilities on Nusakambangan, Indonesia’s Alcatraz-like island prison, in 2012.

Meanwhile Sunakim bided his time in jail, earned his remissions, and was released in 2015 for good behaviour. We now know he went back to his old terrorist network, linking up with other followers of Aman Abdurrahman, who had switched allegiance to ISIS while in prison in 2014 and has since been urging all his acolytes to strike terror in its name.

Sometime late last year, another terrorist cell loyal to Aman and based in Solo, Central Java, reached out to Sunakim, who lived in Kerawang, not far from Jakarta. According to Jakarta police chief Tito Karnavian, who used to lead the anti-terror unit Detachment 88, one Bahrum Naim had sent money and instructions to that Solo network from Raqqa in Syria.

Bahrum, convicted of gun possession and released after two and a half years of jail time, was also an Aman groupie, and thus, an ardent supporter of ISIS. In 2015, he left for Syria, where he is said to have become a leader of the Katibah Nusantara unit of Malay-speaking fighters with ISIS.

It is not yet clear if Bahrum roped in Sunakim himself. The two had briefly shared a police detention cell in Jakarta while awaiting transfers to other prisons.

Apart from shared prison experiences, the key thread linking all the attackers and Bahrum is their blind acceptance of and fealty to the virulent ideology of hatred spawned by Aman Abdurrahman, the most important booster for ISIS in Indonesia today.

Taking up residence in Indonesia’s version of Alcatraz has not stopped Aman from writing and publishing his pro-ISIS screeds, and urging his followers to fight for ISIS, in Syria, or at home.

Prison dynamics and terrorist recidivism

In the last few years, we have been studying how terrorist convicts affect inmate dynamics in Indonesian prisons and the motivations and factors that influence decisions by convicted terrorists to re-involve themselves in violence upon release. We have visited several of the 25 Indonesian prisons and detention centres that hold terrorist convicts, including Cipinang and Nusakambangan, reviewed the case histories of 40 known terrorist recidivists, and interviewed prison officials, inmates, as well as recently released prisoners. Our findings are profoundly depressing.

In the prisons where there are sizable numbers of terrorists serving jail time, they answer to no one except themselves, deciding on their own routines and complying with prison regulations and participating in so-called de-radicalization workshops only when it suits them. Prison staff, untrained and unprepared, are content to leave them be, for riots invite too much scrutiny, and terrorist inmates have instigated prison riots.

Our interviews reveal that for Indonesian jihadists, a spell in prison, rather than being an intervention stage, is seen as a way station to further glory. Many leave prison not only unreformed, but also more influential in local jihadi circles.

Who’s in charge?

Enter an Indonesian prison and among the first thing a visitor sees is the standard operating procedure (SOP) governing visits, framed and hung prominently on a wall. Every visitor is to show identification, register, record the name of the inmate, allow guards to pat him down, search any hand carried bags, and retain his cell phone in a locker.

SOPS are, of course, good only if they are followed consistently and guards are well trained in search procedures. Some prisons like Cipinang make a greater effort to stop contraband from being smuggled in, but visitors are always free to bring in bags of foodstuff and other gifts for inmates. These are searched in a cursory manner.

In terms of security, Indonesian prisons, mainly built during the Dutch colonial era, have all the requisite controlled access, high walls, barbed wire, watchtowers, and CCTV coverage. Escape is not impossible but curiously rare. What the building layouts do not facilitate is segregation. Neither does over-crowding.

Cipinang Prison, where some of Indonesia’s leading jihadis have at one time or another been incarcerated, is one of the few prisons that technically segregates terrorist inmates from other criminal offenders. Block D is the special block for terrorist inmates, who have their own sports facilities, and a cell converted into a musholla (small mosque).

But Cipinang Prison is perpetually over-crowded, and with no extra manpower, prison staff simply allow inmates from all blocks to mingle freely during day light hours. There is nothing to stop terrorist inmates from going into other blocks to conduct religious study sessions or to engage in business enterprises with them. Indeed, the terrorist inmates have more privileges. They can be visited freely by families, friends, and relatives almost every day except on Sundays. The visits are not monitored, allowing free exchange of information. One former inmate recalled getting visits from Jemaah Islamiyah members who brought him books on suicide bombing and tried to match-make him with a woman from the network.

Three types of terrorist leaders control prison dynamics:

• Ideologues who enforce takfir (excommunication)

• Those in the Jemaah Islamiyah (JI) hierarchy trying to preserve their authority and organisation

The ideologues refuse to have anything to do with prison officials, and their influence transcends prison boundaries; there are Aman Abdurrahman groupies in every prison who refuse to cooperate with prison staff or even to pray in the main prison mosque because it represents the government.

When the Indonesian Government introduced Regulation No. 99 / 2012 stipulating that prisoners wishing remission of sentence and parole must meet several requirements such as signing a declaration of loyalty to Pancasila, the state ideology, and the Republic of Indonesia, and be willing to assist the Government to uncover their group's networks (i.e. be “justice collaborators”), Aman Abdurrahman and former Jemaah Islamiyah leader Abu Bakar Ba’asyir both issued messages rejecting the conditions. Aman declared that Muslim brothers who applied for remission and gave their oath of loyalty to the state would be considered infidels and apostates of Islam. Their messages spread to all the prisons, creating tensions among inmates who desired early release.

These ideological leaders do not, however, have free run of the prisons. They face competition for influence from the JI hierarchy who are more interested in preserving JI as an organisation. Ironically these JI leaders receive help from prison staff, who prop them up in hopes that they will help the guards maintain order; challengers to their authority are transferred to Nusakambangan. Jailed JI leaders thus control more than half of the terrorist inmates in Cipinang prison, and are seen to be cooperative, readily sending their followers to prison-run workshops.

Further competition comes from prison veterans on their second or third stints. They use charisma and their personal knowledge of prison rules and relationships to assert control while appearing to cooperate with prison authorities. Even when transferred to different prisons to break their grip, these leaders simply attract a new set of followers by offering them a sense of protection and material comfort, as well as defiance and excitement.

Whether seen as rejectionist or cooperative, these leaders are playing for the long haul while awaiting release; as one terrorist leader, and recidivist Abdullah Sunata told us, he is “taking a day off from work,” work in his case being violent jihad.

Who controls prayers controls the prison

Terrorist inmates told us that prison provides them with time for intimacy with God. They have time to pray, review interpretation books, and study Arabic. This opportunity to practice their religion and deepen their study of Islam has led them to become more confident in their beliefs about the value of jihad. This is important, as many did not have an adequate understanding of Islam to begin with.

The religious activities also allow the terrorist inmates to show their religiosity, leading the prison staff and other inmates to mark them as good Muslims, and therefore a good person. They are thus shown respect, and the social status of terrorist inmates in general rises through the prison population.

Indeed, prison staff believe they can trust the more religious terrorist inmates and therefore involve them in programs to teach Arabic and recite the Koran in the prison mosques. An appointment as an official instructor gives terrorist inmates two advantages: official cover to socialize and interact with non-terrorist inmates, and favorable review of their applications for remission and early parole.

More importantly, the religious activities nurture the spirit of brotherhood among the terrorist inmates in an environment where their solidarity is otherwise challenged. The spiritual bonds often translate into emotional bonds, making it easier for inmates to band together to deal with problems with prison staff.

In major prisons where terrorist inmates are housed in special blocks, leaders use group prayers and Islamic studies to consolidate their power. They control the prayer schedule, the roster of inmates to give sermons, the schedule for Islamic study sessions, and even the schedules for cooking, cleaning, and exercise. Members are also expected to show their loyalty by following their leaders in fasting regularly.

The Islamic study sessions are a sort of ideological course for terrorist inmates devised by group leaders. When he was in Cipinang Prison, Aman Abdurrhaman used to conduct regular lessons on jihad every morning and evening. Almost all the inmates in Block D attended his lessons, including those who did not subscribe to his ideas.

Aman also dictated attitudes toward opponents, such as prison staff, and how they organized themselves. He would declare as infidel anyone he considered acting against his group. When terrorist inmates became involved in drug trafficking in a Medan prison, for example, they received calls from Aman chastising them for not behaving like mujahidin.

Now in Kembang Kuning Prison in Nusakambangan, Aman has fewer followers among fellow inmates. But his influence has not abated. Twice a week, his followers come from all over the country, taking long bus rides, and then the prison ferry to the island, smuggling in Arabic manuscripts downloaded from the internet for Aman to translate. They also record his sermons and distribute them as MP3 files for sharing via email or text messages. The audio files are also distributed from prison to prison, so that other terrorist inmates become familiar with his ISIS ideology, even if they have never met him.

Authors

]]>
Fri, 22 Jan 2016 00:00:00 -0500Susan Sim and Noor Huda Ismail
Editor's note: This essay is the first in a two-part series on terrorist recidivism in Indonesia's prisons.
As inmates in two of Indonesia's largest prisons, Muhammad Ali and Sunakim (alias Afif) could not be more different. One broke out of prison during a riot while the other was quiet and obedient. And yet both died together shooting up the streets of Jakarta on January 14, in homage to a cause promoted by their mentor behind bars and financed by a former cell-mate now fighting with the so-called Islamic State of Iraq and Syam (ISIS).
Sunakim, sentenced to seven years in prison for participating in a terrorist training camp in Aceh, entered Cipinang Prison on the outskirts of Jakarta in December 2011. Unlike several others from the Aceh camp, he gave his captors no trouble. Still the guards should have intervened when he became personal masseur to fellow terrorist convict Aman Abdurrahman, a self-declared takfiri, who denounced all who did not agree with his extremist views as apostate and the Indonesian government in particular as evil.
Muhammad Ali, serving time for being a member of a gang that robbed a bank to fund the Aceh camp, broke out of the Tanjung Gusta Prison in Medan during a riot instigated by his gang leader in 2013. Returned to prison, he was released some time in 2014, just as Indonesia's jihadi community was finding inspiration in the rising fortunes of ISIS.
Muhammad's spiritual mentor in Medan was also in jail, but when the preacher decided to abandon violence and help the police instead, Muhammad turned to the sermons being broadcast into his prison cell through smuggled audio recordings and cell phones, and decided he liked what Aman Abdurrahman was saying from behind bars in Cipinang.
In some ways “an accidental terrorist”, Aman has never taken part in a terrorist operation. He was arrested for the first time in May 2004 when a bomb went off while he was giving a sermon; someone else had been conducting a bomb-making class in the house. Sentenced to four years in prison, he began translating the Arabic works of Middle Eastern proponents of violent jihad. Friends posted the translations online. In the barren intellectual field of Indonesian jihadism, Aman Abdurrahman became an immediate star. His translations were turned into books and widely discussed. His talks were recorded, inspiring many passionate new recruits throughout Indonesia, who took it upon themselves to recruit others to their self-defined jihadi cause.
Aman hit the lecture circuit on his release. Invited to take part in the Aceh training camp in 2009, he refused but donated money. When the camp was discovered the next year and all its participants, instructors, and financiers arrested, Aman was sentenced to 10 years imprisonment. He was sent to Cipinang Prison, where he was once again united with his followers, including one Sunakim alias Afif, then almost 30 years old.
In Cipinang, with Sunakim ready to massage his tired limbs, Aman received tens of visitors every day, acolytes seeking advice on just about everything. They brought him food, clothes, toiletries, stationery, books, and also typed up his works for publication on a dedicated website.
Prison authorities decided to transfer Aman out to one of the five facilities on Nusakambangan, Indonesia's Alcatraz-like island prison, in 2012.
Meanwhile Sunakim bided his time in jail, earned his remissions, and was released in 2015 for good behaviour. We now know he went back to his old terrorist network, linking up with other followers of Aman Abdurrahman, who had switched allegiance to ISIS while in prison in 2014 and has since been urging all his acolytes to strike terror in its name.
Sometime late last year, another terrorist cell loyal to Aman and based in Solo, Central Java, reached out to Sunakim, who lived in Kerawang, not far from Jakarta. According to Jakarta police chief Tito Karnavian, who used to lead the anti-terror unit Detachment 88, one ...
Editor's note: This essay is the first in a two-part series on terrorist recidivism in Indonesia's prisons.
As inmates in two of Indonesia's largest prisons, Muhammad Ali and Sunakim (alias Afif) could not be more different.

As inmates in two of Indonesia’s largest prisons, Muhammad Ali and Sunakim (alias Afif) could not be more different. One broke out of prison during a riot while the other was quiet and obedient. And yet both died together shooting up the streets of Jakarta on January 14, in homage to a cause promoted by their mentor behind bars and financed by a former cell-mate now fighting with the so-called Islamic State of Iraq and Syam (ISIS).

Sunakim, sentenced to seven years in prison for participating in a terrorist training camp in Aceh, entered Cipinang Prison on the outskirts of Jakarta in December 2011. Unlike several others from the Aceh camp, he gave his captors no trouble. Still the guards should have intervened when he became personal masseur to fellow terrorist convict Aman Abdurrahman, a self-declared takfiri, who denounced all who did not agree with his extremist views as apostate and the Indonesian government in particular as evil.

Muhammad Ali, serving time for being a member of a gang that robbed a bank to fund the Aceh camp, broke out of the Tanjung Gusta Prison in Medan during a riot instigated by his gang leader in 2013. Returned to prison, he was released some time in 2014, just as Indonesia’s jihadi community was finding inspiration in the rising fortunes of ISIS.

Muhammad's spiritual mentor in Medan was also in jail, but when the preacher decided to abandon violence and help the police instead, Muhammad turned to the sermons being broadcast into his prison cell through smuggled audio recordings and cell phones, and decided he liked what Aman Abdurrahman was saying from behind bars in Cipinang.

In some ways “an accidental terrorist”, Aman has never taken part in a terrorist operation. He was arrested for the first time in May 2004 when a bomb went off while he was giving a sermon; someone else had been conducting a bomb-making class in the house. Sentenced to four years in prison, he began translating the Arabic works of Middle Eastern proponents of violent jihad. Friends posted the translations online. In the barren intellectual field of Indonesian jihadism, Aman Abdurrahman became an immediate star. His translations were turned into books and widely discussed. His talks were recorded, inspiring many passionate new recruits throughout Indonesia, who took it upon themselves to recruit others to their self-defined jihadi cause.

Aman hit the lecture circuit on his release. Invited to take part in the Aceh training camp in 2009, he refused but donated money. When the camp was discovered the next year and all its participants, instructors, and financiers arrested, Aman was sentenced to 10 years imprisonment. He was sent to Cipinang Prison, where he was once again united with his followers, including one Sunakim alias Afif, then almost 30 years old.

In Cipinang, with Sunakim ready to massage his tired limbs, Aman received tens of visitors every day, acolytes seeking advice on just about everything. They brought him food, clothes, toiletries, stationery, books, and also typed up his works for publication on a dedicated website.

Prison authorities decided to transfer Aman out to one of the five facilities on Nusakambangan, Indonesia’s Alcatraz-like island prison, in 2012.

Meanwhile Sunakim bided his time in jail, earned his remissions, and was released in 2015 for good behaviour. We now know he went back to his old terrorist network, linking up with other followers of Aman Abdurrahman, who had switched allegiance to ISIS while in prison in 2014 and has since been urging all his acolytes to strike terror in its name.

Sometime late last year, another terrorist cell loyal to Aman and based in Solo, Central Java, reached out to Sunakim, who lived in Kerawang, not far from Jakarta. According to Jakarta police chief Tito Karnavian, who used to lead the anti-terror unit Detachment 88, one Bahrum Naim had sent money and instructions to that Solo network from Raqqa in Syria.

Bahrum, convicted of gun possession and released after two and a half years of jail time, was also an Aman groupie, and thus, an ardent supporter of ISIS. In 2015, he left for Syria, where he is said to have become a leader of the Katibah Nusantara unit of Malay-speaking fighters with ISIS.

It is not yet clear if Bahrum roped in Sunakim himself. The two had briefly shared a police detention cell in Jakarta while awaiting transfers to other prisons.

Apart from shared prison experiences, the key thread linking all the attackers and Bahrum is their blind acceptance of and fealty to the virulent ideology of hatred spawned by Aman Abdurrahman, the most important booster for ISIS in Indonesia today.

Taking up residence in Indonesia’s version of Alcatraz has not stopped Aman from writing and publishing his pro-ISIS screeds, and urging his followers to fight for ISIS, in Syria, or at home.

Prison dynamics and terrorist recidivism

In the last few years, we have been studying how terrorist convicts affect inmate dynamics in Indonesian prisons and the motivations and factors that influence decisions by convicted terrorists to re-involve themselves in violence upon release. We have visited several of the 25 Indonesian prisons and detention centres that hold terrorist convicts, including Cipinang and Nusakambangan, reviewed the case histories of 40 known terrorist recidivists, and interviewed prison officials, inmates, as well as recently released prisoners. Our findings are profoundly depressing.

In the prisons where there are sizable numbers of terrorists serving jail time, they answer to no one except themselves, deciding on their own routines and complying with prison regulations and participating in so-called de-radicalization workshops only when it suits them. Prison staff, untrained and unprepared, are content to leave them be, for riots invite too much scrutiny, and terrorist inmates have instigated prison riots.

Our interviews reveal that for Indonesian jihadists, a spell in prison, rather than being an intervention stage, is seen as a way station to further glory. Many leave prison not only unreformed, but also more influential in local jihadi circles.

Who’s in charge?

Enter an Indonesian prison and among the first thing a visitor sees is the standard operating procedure (SOP) governing visits, framed and hung prominently on a wall. Every visitor is to show identification, register, record the name of the inmate, allow guards to pat him down, search any hand carried bags, and retain his cell phone in a locker.

SOPS are, of course, good only if they are followed consistently and guards are well trained in search procedures. Some prisons like Cipinang make a greater effort to stop contraband from being smuggled in, but visitors are always free to bring in bags of foodstuff and other gifts for inmates. These are searched in a cursory manner.

In terms of security, Indonesian prisons, mainly built during the Dutch colonial era, have all the requisite controlled access, high walls, barbed wire, watchtowers, and CCTV coverage. Escape is not impossible but curiously rare. What the building layouts do not facilitate is segregation. Neither does over-crowding.

Cipinang Prison, where some of Indonesia’s leading jihadis have at one time or another been incarcerated, is one of the few prisons that technically segregates terrorist inmates from other criminal offenders. Block D is the special block for terrorist inmates, who have their own sports facilities, and a cell converted into a musholla (small mosque).

But Cipinang Prison is perpetually over-crowded, and with no extra manpower, prison staff simply allow inmates from all blocks to mingle freely during day light hours. There is nothing to stop terrorist inmates from going into other blocks to conduct religious study sessions or to engage in business enterprises with them. Indeed, the terrorist inmates have more privileges. They can be visited freely by families, friends, and relatives almost every day except on Sundays. The visits are not monitored, allowing free exchange of information. One former inmate recalled getting visits from Jemaah Islamiyah members who brought him books on suicide bombing and tried to match-make him with a woman from the network.

Three types of terrorist leaders control prison dynamics:

• Ideologues who enforce takfir (excommunication)

• Those in the Jemaah Islamiyah (JI) hierarchy trying to preserve their authority and organisation

The ideologues refuse to have anything to do with prison officials, and their influence transcends prison boundaries; there are Aman Abdurrahman groupies in every prison who refuse to cooperate with prison staff or even to pray in the main prison mosque because it represents the government.

When the Indonesian Government introduced Regulation No. 99 / 2012 stipulating that prisoners wishing remission of sentence and parole must meet several requirements such as signing a declaration of loyalty to Pancasila, the state ideology, and the Republic of Indonesia, and be willing to assist the Government to uncover their group's networks (i.e. be “justice collaborators”), Aman Abdurrahman and former Jemaah Islamiyah leader Abu Bakar Ba’asyir both issued messages rejecting the conditions. Aman declared that Muslim brothers who applied for remission and gave their oath of loyalty to the state would be considered infidels and apostates of Islam. Their messages spread to all the prisons, creating tensions among inmates who desired early release.

These ideological leaders do not, however, have free run of the prisons. They face competition for influence from the JI hierarchy who are more interested in preserving JI as an organisation. Ironically these JI leaders receive help from prison staff, who prop them up in hopes that they will help the guards maintain order; challengers to their authority are transferred to Nusakambangan. Jailed JI leaders thus control more than half of the terrorist inmates in Cipinang prison, and are seen to be cooperative, readily sending their followers to prison-run workshops.

Further competition comes from prison veterans on their second or third stints. They use charisma and their personal knowledge of prison rules and relationships to assert control while appearing to cooperate with prison authorities. Even when transferred to different prisons to break their grip, these leaders simply attract a new set of followers by offering them a sense of protection and material comfort, as well as defiance and excitement.

Whether seen as rejectionist or cooperative, these leaders are playing for the long haul while awaiting release; as one terrorist leader, and recidivist Abdullah Sunata told us, he is “taking a day off from work,” work in his case being violent jihad.

Who controls prayers controls the prison

Terrorist inmates told us that prison provides them with time for intimacy with God. They have time to pray, review interpretation books, and study Arabic. This opportunity to practice their religion and deepen their study of Islam has led them to become more confident in their beliefs about the value of jihad. This is important, as many did not have an adequate understanding of Islam to begin with.

The religious activities also allow the terrorist inmates to show their religiosity, leading the prison staff and other inmates to mark them as good Muslims, and therefore a good person. They are thus shown respect, and the social status of terrorist inmates in general rises through the prison population.

Indeed, prison staff believe they can trust the more religious terrorist inmates and therefore involve them in programs to teach Arabic and recite the Koran in the prison mosques. An appointment as an official instructor gives terrorist inmates two advantages: official cover to socialize and interact with non-terrorist inmates, and favorable review of their applications for remission and early parole.

More importantly, the religious activities nurture the spirit of brotherhood among the terrorist inmates in an environment where their solidarity is otherwise challenged. The spiritual bonds often translate into emotional bonds, making it easier for inmates to band together to deal with problems with prison staff.

In major prisons where terrorist inmates are housed in special blocks, leaders use group prayers and Islamic studies to consolidate their power. They control the prayer schedule, the roster of inmates to give sermons, the schedule for Islamic study sessions, and even the schedules for cooking, cleaning, and exercise. Members are also expected to show their loyalty by following their leaders in fasting regularly.

The Islamic study sessions are a sort of ideological course for terrorist inmates devised by group leaders. When he was in Cipinang Prison, Aman Abdurrhaman used to conduct regular lessons on jihad every morning and evening. Almost all the inmates in Block D attended his lessons, including those who did not subscribe to his ideas.

Aman also dictated attitudes toward opponents, such as prison staff, and how they organized themselves. He would declare as infidel anyone he considered acting against his group. When terrorist inmates became involved in drug trafficking in a Medan prison, for example, they received calls from Aman chastising them for not behaving like mujahidin.

Now in Kembang Kuning Prison in Nusakambangan, Aman has fewer followers among fellow inmates. But his influence has not abated. Twice a week, his followers come from all over the country, taking long bus rides, and then the prison ferry to the island, smuggling in Arabic manuscripts downloaded from the internet for Aman to translate. They also record his sermons and distribute them as MP3 files for sharing via email or text messages. The audio files are also distributed from prison to prison, so that other terrorist inmates become familiar with his ISIS ideology, even if they have never met him.

From October 25 to 27, Indonesian president Joko “Jokowi” Widodo paid his first visit to the United States just over a year after being inaugurated. The highlight of the trip was a decision by Jokowi and U.S. president Barack Obama to formally elevate bilateral ties to the level of a strategic partnership. However, a closer look suggests there are lingering questions about the true extent of convergence of interests between Jakarta and Washington.

To be sure, the visit produced some important outcomes for both sides. The elevation of ties to the level of a strategic partnership is itself is a significant achievement. While the United States and Indonesia have had varying degrees of cooperation since Jakarta’s independence in 1949, the strategic partnership reflects a desire by the two countries to push for deeper and broader collaboration, building on the comprehensive partnership inked in 2010 under Jokowi’s predecessor, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono. A strengthened partnership is in in the interest of both sides. The United States wants to engage emerging powers like Indonesia – the world’s fourth largest nation, third largest democracy, and largest Muslim-majority country – to help address regional and global challenges. Indonesia is cementing ties with major players, including Washington, to support its rise as a regional power with global interests less than two decades since the start of its democratic transition following the fall of Suharto in 1998.

Jokowi’s trip also saw the strengthening of ties in the diplomatic, security, and economic realms. Diplomatically, the upgrading of ties to a strategic partnership was also accompanied by concrete steps to broaden and deepen the bilateral relationship. Most importantly, the United States and Indonesia established a new annual ministerial strategic dialogue to institutionalize regular high-level consultations. There was also attention given to broadening out the “Track II,” or non-government track, in U.S.-Indonesia relations, a key priority which Indonesian foreign minister Retno Marsudi had also mentioned in her keynote address to the U.S.-Indonesia Society (USINDO) in October. These moves are significant as they bolster the architecture of the overall relationship.

Though security ties have been a key aspect of the relationship dating back to the 1960s, cooperation has waxed and waned, with the suspension of military ties after human rights abuses by Indonesian security forces in the 1990s, followed by greater counterterrorism and law enforcement cooperation during the George W. Bush years. During Jokowi’s visit, defense ties got a boost with the inking of a joint statement on comprehensive defense cooperation, which includes collaboration in far-reaching areas like the co-development and co-production of defense equipment. Both sides also signed a memorandum of understanding (MoU) on maritime cooperation, attesting to the importance of the maritime realm as Jokowi tries to realize his vision of Indonesia as a ”global maritime fulcrum” between the Pacific and Indian Oceans. A more detailed action plan on maritime cooperation is also already in the works.

The economic dimension of U.S.-Indonesia relations has traditionally lagged behind other areas of the relationship. U.S. trade with Indonesia in 2014 totaled just $28 billion, and foreign direct investment totaled just $65 billion from 2004 to 2012, with a significant part of that in extractive industries according to a 2013 report by the U.S. Chamber of Commerce. Yet even this area saw some promising developments during the visit. Indonesia inked more than $20 billion worth of business deals with major U.S. companies, including General Electric and Caterpillar, a significant number with some real substance behind it. Moreover, to the surprise of many, including Obama himself, Jokowi announced Indonesia’s intention to join the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP), a 12-member free trade agreement whose members comprise around 40 percent of global GDP. In doing so, Indonesia, the world’s sixteenth largest economy and a member of the G-20, joins the Philippines and Thailand as interested parties who may eventually join the four other Southeast Asian countries (Malaysia, Singapore, Vietnam, and Brunei) that are currently part of the pact.

Yet the new strategic partnership label and the long list of deliverables obscure the true state of cooperation between the United States and Indonesia. First, it is unclear whether the two sides will follow through on ongoing cooperation smoothly. This is not merely an existential concern. Just days before Jokowi landed in Washington, Indonesian officials canceled the signing of a new work plan that would have institutionalized U.S. assistance to Jakarta’s newly created coast guard known as BAKAMLA, an entity critical to coordinating Indonesia’s dizzying array of maritime security actors. Sources suggested an all-too-familiar story in which domestic interest groups had thwarted what would have been a significant boost to Indonesia’s national capabilities. Though Indonesian officials said at the time that the pact would eventually be finalized, the hiccup was nonetheless frustrating for the U.S. side.

Similar concerns remain with respect to Jokowi’s commitment to join the TPP and institute economic reforms more generally. According to the World Bank’s latest regional update in October, Indonesia’s economy is expected to expand by 4.7 percent for 2015 – its lowest level since 2009 – in the wake of sluggish economic growth in China and Japan, tightening global financial conditions, low commodity prices, and a weak rupiah. To his credit, Jokowi, a former businessman, has been trying to make some changes, including a cabinet reshuffle in August. But the jury is still out on whether he can overcome powerful vested interests. Joining TPP, for instance, would require moving away from the rising protectionist tendencies we have witnessed in the past. Jokowi’s new trade minister, Tom Lembong, has publicly admitted that realizing Jokowi’s TPP ambition could take two or three years of hard work if the president is serious about it.

Second, actual cooperation between the United States and Indonesia on regional and global issues – the bedrock of such strategic partnerships – is currently far less than the label might suggest. For all the rhetoric, Jakarta currently does not seem to fit in as snugly into key U.S. priorities as the Obama administration would like. Globally, in terms of the fight against the Islamic State, while the joint statement did include a pledge to stem the flow of foreign terrorist fighters and step up counter-radicalization efforts, there is still little sign of bolder moves such as Indonesia joining the now 65-member U.S.-led Global Coalition to Counter ISIL. It is notable that neighboring Malaysia, the other Southeast Asian Muslim-majority state which shares similar domestic sensitivities, did so a month before Jokowi’s visit.

On climate change – another key priority for the Obama administration during the visit with global negotiations in Paris taking place from November 30 to December 11 – Indonesia, the world’s fifth largest emitter of greenhouse gases, has hardly been a model partner. Though Jakarta did release its post-2020 climate mitigation commitment in October to boost international efforts to curb global warming, experts noted the lack of critical details on both the modeling as well as how the commitment itself would be accomplished. It also has not helped that the annual choking haze from forest fires in Indonesia has been at one of its worst-ever levels this year, grabbing headlines the world over and creating a regional crisis. On some days, emissions from the outbreak of forest fires were exceeding the emissions from all U.S. economic activity, the World Resources Institute pointed out. The ongoing haze crisis was also cited as the official reason for Jokowi’s decision to nix the Silicon Valley portion of his U.S. trip, where he was scheduled to meet top U.S. business leaders from Microsoft, Google, Apple and Facebook.

Though the U.S.-Indonesia joint statement during the visit referenced Indonesia as a leader in ASEAN, Jokowi’s administration has thus far been less committed to regionalism than Washington. While the United States was working hard to finalize a strategic partnership with ASEAN for much of 2015, this year has seen anxiety in several Southeast Asian capitals and in Washington about the Jokowi administration’s lack of interest in ASEAN. From its hesitance about the ASEAN Economic Community to its assertive behavior in sinking neighboring vessels to eradicate illegal fishing, Indonesia if anything has appeared to be turning away from ASEAN. Jokowi himself has shown little interest in foreign policy and little patience with regional summits thus far, skipping the retreat portion of the ASEAN Summit in April and the Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) summit meeting hosted by the Philippines in November.

Third, structural differences between the United States and Indonesia continue to limit the extent of policy convergence on some issues. In particular, Indonesia’s preference for a free and active foreign policy has meant that it prefers to pursue a diversified set of relationships and exercise regional leadership instead of just backing initiatives by the United States, whether it be foreign interventions in the Middle East or even the basing of marines in Darwin, Australia as part of the Obama administration’s “rebalance” to the Asia-Pacific.

The most vivid illustration of this balancing act during Jokowi’s visit was Indonesia’s response to the U.S. freedom of navigation operation (FONOP) in the South China Sea, near one of China’s artificial islands on October 27. Even though Indonesia is concerned about China’s bold intrusions into its waters and the impact of Beijing’s assertiveness on regional stability, Jokowi’s address to Brookings hours after the FONOP predictably urged all parties – including Washington – “to exercise restraint.” Jokowi’s prepared remarks were overshadowed by those of Luhut Pandjaitan, one of his closest advisers, who said Indonesia disagreed with U.S. “power projection,” equating the move with ineffective wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Though Pandjaitan is no stranger to such off the cuff remarks, his comments made headlines. Before Jokowi’s trip, his defense minister Ryamizard Ryacudu had also raised eyebrows when he suggested following consultations in China that if regional countries can manage the South China Sea on their own, there is no need to involve others – a clear reference to Washington.

To be sure, in spite of what some of these individual comments might suggest, Indonesia neither opposes U.S. preservation of freedom of navigation nor condones China’s growing assertiveness: Jakarta is merely concerned that such actions risk exacerbating U.S.-China rivalry, thereby undermining regional stability and Indonesia’s national autonomy by forcing it to pick sides. Indeed, the U.S.-Indonesia joint statement issued following the meeting between Obama and Jokowi contained a paragraph on the shared concerns of both sides in this regard, including a reference to upholding freedom of navigation and overflight. The broader point, though, is this: Indonesia’s foreign policy outlook in general and its cautious position on the South China Sea in particular prevent it from expressing strong public words of support for the United States. This is especially the case given the importance the Jokowi administration has placed on boosting economic ties with China thus far.

Of course, these lingering concerns about U.S.-Indonesia cooperation can be put to rest by both sides in the next few years within the framework of the new strategic partnership. This is only the beginning of Jokowi’s second year in office, and areas of focus within the strategic partnership, such as de-radicalization, energy cooperation, and illegal, unreported, and unregulated (IUU) fishing, hold promise for further collaboration.

However, with the second Obama administration nearing its end, the time for the two countries to cement ties is winding down. While the Obama years have seen a consistent focus on Asia and deep engagement in Southeast Asia in spite of other global challenges, it is unclear if the next president in the White House, beginning in January 2017, will share that commitment to a similar degree or will have the same amount of political capital to act on it amid other priorities. Obama’s successor will also lack his unique personal connection to Indonesia having spent part of his childhood living in Jakarta.

Irrespective of what the next U.S. president does, if Indonesia does not demonstrate its value as a strategic partner, Washington’s patience may soon wear thin and Jakarta’s position within the growing list of U.S. partners in the Asia-Pacific may suffer as a result. The elevation of any relationship tends to be a double-edged sword: ties are taken to new heights, but expectations also rise. The challenge for both sides, therefore, will be to live up to their new strategic partnership over the next few years.

Authors

Prashanth Parameswaran

Image Source: Paul Morigi

]]>
Tue, 08 Dec 2015 00:00:00 -0500Prashanth Parameswaran
From October 25 to 27, Indonesian president Joko “Jokowi” Widodo paid his first visit to the United States just over a year after being inaugurated. The highlight of the trip was a decision by Jokowi and U.S. president Barack Obama to formally elevate bilateral ties to the level of a strategic partnership. However, a closer look suggests there are lingering questions about the true extent of convergence of interests between Jakarta and Washington.
To be sure, the visit produced some important outcomes for both sides. The elevation of ties to the level of a strategic partnership is itself is a significant achievement. While the United States and Indonesia have had varying degrees of cooperation since Jakarta's independence in 1949, the strategic partnership reflects a desire by the two countries to push for deeper and broader collaboration, building on the comprehensive partnership inked in 2010 under Jokowi's predecessor, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono. A strengthened partnership is in in the interest of both sides. The United States wants to engage emerging powers like Indonesia – the world's fourth largest nation, third largest democracy, and largest Muslim-majority country – to help address regional and global challenges. Indonesia is cementing ties with major players, including Washington, to support its rise as a regional power with global interests less than two decades since the start of its democratic transition following the fall of Suharto in 1998.
Jokowi's trip also saw the strengthening of ties in the diplomatic, security, and economic realms. Diplomatically, the upgrading of ties to a strategic partnership was also accompanied by concrete steps to broaden and deepen the bilateral relationship. Most importantly, the United States and Indonesia established a new annual ministerial strategic dialogue to institutionalize regular high-level consultations. There was also attention given to broadening out the “Track II,” or non-government track, in U.S.-Indonesia relations, a key priority which Indonesian foreign minister Retno Marsudi had also mentioned in her keynote address to the U.S.-Indonesia Society (USINDO) in October. These moves are significant as they bolster the architecture of the overall relationship.
Though security ties have been a key aspect of the relationship dating back to the 1960s, cooperation has waxed and waned, with the suspension of military ties after human rights abuses by Indonesian security forces in the 1990s, followed by greater counterterrorism and law enforcement cooperation during the George W. Bush years. During Jokowi's visit, defense ties got a boost with the inking of a joint statement on comprehensive defense cooperation, which includes collaboration in far-reaching areas like the co-development and co-production of defense equipment. Both sides also signed a memorandum of understanding (MoU) on maritime cooperation, attesting to the importance of the maritime realm as Jokowi tries to realize his vision of Indonesia as a ”global maritime fulcrum” between the Pacific and Indian Oceans. A more detailed action plan on maritime cooperation is also already in the works.
The economic dimension of U.S.-Indonesia relations has traditionally lagged behind other areas of the relationship. U.S. trade with Indonesia in 2014 totaled just $28 billion, and foreign direct investment totaled just $65 billion from 2004 to 2012, with a significant part of that in extractive industries according to a 2013 report by the U.S. Chamber of Commerce. Yet even this area saw some promising developments during the visit. Indonesia inked more than $20 billion worth of business deals with major U.S. companies, including General Electric and Caterpillar, a significant number with some real substance behind it. Moreover, to the surprise of many, including Obama himself, Jokowi announced Indonesia's intention to join the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP), a ...
From October 25 to 27, Indonesian president Joko “Jokowi” Widodo paid his first visit to the United States just over a year after being inaugurated. The highlight of the trip was a decision by Jokowi and U.

From October 25 to 27, Indonesian president Joko “Jokowi” Widodo paid his first visit to the United States just over a year after being inaugurated. The highlight of the trip was a decision by Jokowi and U.S. president Barack Obama to formally elevate bilateral ties to the level of a strategic partnership. However, a closer look suggests there are lingering questions about the true extent of convergence of interests between Jakarta and Washington.

To be sure, the visit produced some important outcomes for both sides. The elevation of ties to the level of a strategic partnership is itself is a significant achievement. While the United States and Indonesia have had varying degrees of cooperation since Jakarta’s independence in 1949, the strategic partnership reflects a desire by the two countries to push for deeper and broader collaboration, building on the comprehensive partnership inked in 2010 under Jokowi’s predecessor, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono. A strengthened partnership is in in the interest of both sides. The United States wants to engage emerging powers like Indonesia – the world’s fourth largest nation, third largest democracy, and largest Muslim-majority country – to help address regional and global challenges. Indonesia is cementing ties with major players, including Washington, to support its rise as a regional power with global interests less than two decades since the start of its democratic transition following the fall of Suharto in 1998.

Jokowi’s trip also saw the strengthening of ties in the diplomatic, security, and economic realms. Diplomatically, the upgrading of ties to a strategic partnership was also accompanied by concrete steps to broaden and deepen the bilateral relationship. Most importantly, the United States and Indonesia established a new annual ministerial strategic dialogue to institutionalize regular high-level consultations. There was also attention given to broadening out the “Track II,” or non-government track, in U.S.-Indonesia relations, a key priority which Indonesian foreign minister Retno Marsudi had also mentioned in her keynote address to the U.S.-Indonesia Society (USINDO) in October. These moves are significant as they bolster the architecture of the overall relationship.

Though security ties have been a key aspect of the relationship dating back to the 1960s, cooperation has waxed and waned, with the suspension of military ties after human rights abuses by Indonesian security forces in the 1990s, followed by greater counterterrorism and law enforcement cooperation during the George W. Bush years. During Jokowi’s visit, defense ties got a boost with the inking of a joint statement on comprehensive defense cooperation, which includes collaboration in far-reaching areas like the co-development and co-production of defense equipment. Both sides also signed a memorandum of understanding (MoU) on maritime cooperation, attesting to the importance of the maritime realm as Jokowi tries to realize his vision of Indonesia as a ”global maritime fulcrum” between the Pacific and Indian Oceans. A more detailed action plan on maritime cooperation is also already in the works.

The economic dimension of U.S.-Indonesia relations has traditionally lagged behind other areas of the relationship. U.S. trade with Indonesia in 2014 totaled just $28 billion, and foreign direct investment totaled just $65 billion from 2004 to 2012, with a significant part of that in extractive industries according to a 2013 report by the U.S. Chamber of Commerce. Yet even this area saw some promising developments during the visit. Indonesia inked more than $20 billion worth of business deals with major U.S. companies, including General Electric and Caterpillar, a significant number with some real substance behind it. Moreover, to the surprise of many, including Obama himself, Jokowi announced Indonesia’s intention to join the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP), a 12-member free trade agreement whose members comprise around 40 percent of global GDP. In doing so, Indonesia, the world’s sixteenth largest economy and a member of the G-20, joins the Philippines and Thailand as interested parties who may eventually join the four other Southeast Asian countries (Malaysia, Singapore, Vietnam, and Brunei) that are currently part of the pact.

Yet the new strategic partnership label and the long list of deliverables obscure the true state of cooperation between the United States and Indonesia. First, it is unclear whether the two sides will follow through on ongoing cooperation smoothly. This is not merely an existential concern. Just days before Jokowi landed in Washington, Indonesian officials canceled the signing of a new work plan that would have institutionalized U.S. assistance to Jakarta’s newly created coast guard known as BAKAMLA, an entity critical to coordinating Indonesia’s dizzying array of maritime security actors. Sources suggested an all-too-familiar story in which domestic interest groups had thwarted what would have been a significant boost to Indonesia’s national capabilities. Though Indonesian officials said at the time that the pact would eventually be finalized, the hiccup was nonetheless frustrating for the U.S. side.

Similar concerns remain with respect to Jokowi’s commitment to join the TPP and institute economic reforms more generally. According to the World Bank’s latest regional update in October, Indonesia’s economy is expected to expand by 4.7 percent for 2015 – its lowest level since 2009 – in the wake of sluggish economic growth in China and Japan, tightening global financial conditions, low commodity prices, and a weak rupiah. To his credit, Jokowi, a former businessman, has been trying to make some changes, including a cabinet reshuffle in August. But the jury is still out on whether he can overcome powerful vested interests. Joining TPP, for instance, would require moving away from the rising protectionist tendencies we have witnessed in the past. Jokowi’s new trade minister, Tom Lembong, has publicly admitted that realizing Jokowi’s TPP ambition could take two or three years of hard work if the president is serious about it.

Second, actual cooperation between the United States and Indonesia on regional and global issues – the bedrock of such strategic partnerships – is currently far less than the label might suggest. For all the rhetoric, Jakarta currently does not seem to fit in as snugly into key U.S. priorities as the Obama administration would like. Globally, in terms of the fight against the Islamic State, while the joint statement did include a pledge to stem the flow of foreign terrorist fighters and step up counter-radicalization efforts, there is still little sign of bolder moves such as Indonesia joining the now 65-member U.S.-led Global Coalition to Counter ISIL. It is notable that neighboring Malaysia, the other Southeast Asian Muslim-majority state which shares similar domestic sensitivities, did so a month before Jokowi’s visit.

On climate change – another key priority for the Obama administration during the visit with global negotiations in Paris taking place from November 30 to December 11 – Indonesia, the world’s fifth largest emitter of greenhouse gases, has hardly been a model partner. Though Jakarta did release its post-2020 climate mitigation commitment in October to boost international efforts to curb global warming, experts noted the lack of critical details on both the modeling as well as how the commitment itself would be accomplished. It also has not helped that the annual choking haze from forest fires in Indonesia has been at one of its worst-ever levels this year, grabbing headlines the world over and creating a regional crisis. On some days, emissions from the outbreak of forest fires were exceeding the emissions from all U.S. economic activity, the World Resources Institute pointed out. The ongoing haze crisis was also cited as the official reason for Jokowi’s decision to nix the Silicon Valley portion of his U.S. trip, where he was scheduled to meet top U.S. business leaders from Microsoft, Google, Apple and Facebook.

Though the U.S.-Indonesia joint statement during the visit referenced Indonesia as a leader in ASEAN, Jokowi’s administration has thus far been less committed to regionalism than Washington. While the United States was working hard to finalize a strategic partnership with ASEAN for much of 2015, this year has seen anxiety in several Southeast Asian capitals and in Washington about the Jokowi administration’s lack of interest in ASEAN. From its hesitance about the ASEAN Economic Community to its assertive behavior in sinking neighboring vessels to eradicate illegal fishing, Indonesia if anything has appeared to be turning away from ASEAN. Jokowi himself has shown little interest in foreign policy and little patience with regional summits thus far, skipping the retreat portion of the ASEAN Summit in April and the Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) summit meeting hosted by the Philippines in November.

Third, structural differences between the United States and Indonesia continue to limit the extent of policy convergence on some issues. In particular, Indonesia’s preference for a free and active foreign policy has meant that it prefers to pursue a diversified set of relationships and exercise regional leadership instead of just backing initiatives by the United States, whether it be foreign interventions in the Middle East or even the basing of marines in Darwin, Australia as part of the Obama administration’s “rebalance” to the Asia-Pacific.

The most vivid illustration of this balancing act during Jokowi’s visit was Indonesia’s response to the U.S. freedom of navigation operation (FONOP) in the South China Sea, near one of China’s artificial islands on October 27. Even though Indonesia is concerned about China’s bold intrusions into its waters and the impact of Beijing’s assertiveness on regional stability, Jokowi’s address to Brookings hours after the FONOP predictably urged all parties – including Washington – “to exercise restraint.” Jokowi’s prepared remarks were overshadowed by those of Luhut Pandjaitan, one of his closest advisers, who said Indonesia disagreed with U.S. “power projection,” equating the move with ineffective wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Though Pandjaitan is no stranger to such off the cuff remarks, his comments made headlines. Before Jokowi’s trip, his defense minister Ryamizard Ryacudu had also raised eyebrows when he suggested following consultations in China that if regional countries can manage the South China Sea on their own, there is no need to involve others – a clear reference to Washington.

To be sure, in spite of what some of these individual comments might suggest, Indonesia neither opposes U.S. preservation of freedom of navigation nor condones China’s growing assertiveness: Jakarta is merely concerned that such actions risk exacerbating U.S.-China rivalry, thereby undermining regional stability and Indonesia’s national autonomy by forcing it to pick sides. Indeed, the U.S.-Indonesia joint statement issued following the meeting between Obama and Jokowi contained a paragraph on the shared concerns of both sides in this regard, including a reference to upholding freedom of navigation and overflight. The broader point, though, is this: Indonesia’s foreign policy outlook in general and its cautious position on the South China Sea in particular prevent it from expressing strong public words of support for the United States. This is especially the case given the importance the Jokowi administration has placed on boosting economic ties with China thus far.

Of course, these lingering concerns about U.S.-Indonesia cooperation can be put to rest by both sides in the next few years within the framework of the new strategic partnership. This is only the beginning of Jokowi’s second year in office, and areas of focus within the strategic partnership, such as de-radicalization, energy cooperation, and illegal, unreported, and unregulated (IUU) fishing, hold promise for further collaboration.

However, with the second Obama administration nearing its end, the time for the two countries to cement ties is winding down. While the Obama years have seen a consistent focus on Asia and deep engagement in Southeast Asia in spite of other global challenges, it is unclear if the next president in the White House, beginning in January 2017, will share that commitment to a similar degree or will have the same amount of political capital to act on it amid other priorities. Obama’s successor will also lack his unique personal connection to Indonesia having spent part of his childhood living in Jakarta.

Irrespective of what the next U.S. president does, if Indonesia does not demonstrate its value as a strategic partner, Washington’s patience may soon wear thin and Jakarta’s position within the growing list of U.S. partners in the Asia-Pacific may suffer as a result. The elevation of any relationship tends to be a double-edged sword: ties are taken to new heights, but expectations also rise. The challenge for both sides, therefore, will be to live up to their new strategic partnership over the next few years.

If Indonesian media reports are anything to go by, the much-anticipated meeting with President Barack Obama was nothing short of a meeting of doppelgangers. Both were youthful, relatively inexperienced politicians who were catapulted to power on the back of reform agendas. Both energized the respective electorates with their “can-do” persona. Both have had to deal with bizarre attempts to cast doubt on their religious affiliations—Obama was accused of being a closet Muslim while Jokowi was accused of being a closet Christian. To some, the two presidents even look alike. And of course, Obama himself had spent several years of his childhood growing up in Jakarta.

But sentimentality, nostalgia, and shared physical traits are probably not the firmest foundations upon which to build bilateral relations. So what did Jokowi’s trip achieve in terms of substantively advancing bilateral ties, particularly given how the U.S.-Indonesia Comprehensive Partnership, launched in 2010 on the occasion of Obama’s visit to Jakarta, appears to have stalled somewhat?

A goodie bag to take home

To be sure, there were several low-hanging fruits. For starters, Jokowi secured $2.75 million in assistance to battle raging forest fires caused by slash-and-burn activities of both big corporations and local farmers seeking to clear land for palm oil, as well as pulp and paper plantations. Washington also committed to assist Jakarta in the development of maritime capabilities, in accordance with the latter’s Global Maritime Fulcrum policy—a cornerstone of Jokowi’s foreign policy agenda that aims to strengthen the country’s maritime infrastructure and security apparatus.

Whether the meeting of minds on these issues will put U.S.-Indonesia relations back on track however, remains to be seen.

Much had been made of Indonesia’s potential as a bulwark against religious extremism emanating from the Middle East today. Leaders in Washington have repeatedly affirmed Indonesia’s credentials as a “tolerant” and “moderate” Muslim country. The number of Indonesian jihadis who have flocked to join the ranks of the Islamic State remains comparatively low (estimated at about 600 out of a Muslim population of 205 million) compared to Europeans and Australians. But although the Indonesian state has managed to control the numbers, there was little by way of substantive discussion during the meetings in Washington about how this was undertaken, beyond token celebratory references to the “Indonesian brand” of Islam.

Help to fight the forest fires—which are estimated to already have emitted 1.6 billion tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere—was doubtless welcomed. But without serious effort on Indonesia’s part to tackle the root causes, American assistance amounts to little more than a band-aid. This was surely not lost on President Obama, with the Paris climate change talks looming.

Another major priority for Jokowi was positioning Indonesia (particularly rural Indonesia) as a market for digital products and partner for digital technology development. This reflects the president’s personal interest in information technology and concern for the need to improve Indonesia’s IT infrastructure, which he also stressed on his campaign trail a little over a year ago. The importance of this issue was demonstrated in Jokowi’s original plan to visit Silicon Valley, including meetings with Apple and Google. That leg of the trip was eventually cancelled as the president hastened to return to Indonesia in response to the escalation of the forest fires. It is worth noting however, that bilateral trade between the U.S. and Indonesia in the digital sector reached $12 billion in 2014, without any government intervention.

Standing up in its own neighborhood

Operationalizing U.S. support for the Global Maritime Fulcrum policy is likely to be complex, particularly if it is related to American maritime interest in the region. President Jokowi, along with his foreign and defense ministers, reiterated Indonesia’s commitment to a maritime order based on international law and non-use of force. No doubt, these statements were welcomed in Washington circles, particularly given the climate of Chinese assertiveness.

But how far is Indonesia prepared to go to champion and defend that order? There is a crucial difference between Indonesia’s cautious position on China and Washington’s preference for Jakarta to take a stronger stand as ASEAN’s linchpin on the South China Sea disputes. At issue is the deepening economic ties between Indonesia and China—China Railway was recently awarded the on-again-off-again contract to build a $5.5 billion high-speed rail between Jakarta and Bandung—which prevents Jakarta from taking a strong stand against Chinese policy in the region. But Washington is looking to regional partners to also step up pressure on the Chinese.

Contradictory statements from Jakarta have added further confusion to Indonesia’s position on the South China Sea. Whereas Indonesia’s Western Fleet chief (Panglima Armada Barat), Rear Admiral Achmad Taufiqoerrochman, recently claimed Indonesian warships were on standby in the South China Sea in anticipation of heightened tension, Luhut Pandjaitan (Coordinating Minister for Political, Legal, and Security Affairs) has retorted that there will be no Indonesian military presence in the South China Sea. Defense Minister Ryamizard Ryacudu also suggested on the sidelines of the recent ASEAN-China defense ministers’ meeting that there was no need for non-claimants to be involved in the South China Sea if claimant states can de-escalate tensions.

From talk to walk

As the largest country in Southeast Asia, and the largest Muslim-majority democracy in the world, Indonesia is of great strategic importance to the United States—particularly given the challenges posed by the rise of China in Asia, and the threat of the Islamic State in the Middle East. Yet bilateral relations between Washington and Jakarta have not made significant progress in actualizing this potential. It remains to be seen if President Jokowi’s visit has injected much-needed impetus and urgency. On present evidence though, it does not appear that much headway has been made.

Authors

]]>
Thu, 29 Oct 2015 15:35:00 -0400Joseph Chinyong Liow
President Joko Widodo of Indonesia, fondly known by the moniker “Jokowi” back home, seems to have accomplished quite a bit during his brief trip to Washington this week.
If Indonesian media reports are anything to go by, the much-anticipated meeting with President Barack Obama was nothing short of a meeting of doppelgangers. Both were youthful, relatively inexperienced politicians who were catapulted to power on the back of reform agendas. Both energized the respective electorates with their “can-do” persona. Both have had to deal with bizarre attempts to cast doubt on their religious affiliations—Obama was accused of being a closet Muslim while Jokowi was accused of being a closet Christian. To some, the two presidents even look alike. And of course, Obama himself had spent several years of his childhood growing up in Jakarta.
But sentimentality, nostalgia, and shared physical traits are probably not the firmest foundations upon which to build bilateral relations. So what did Jokowi's trip achieve in terms of substantively advancing bilateral ties, particularly given how the U.S.-Indonesia Comprehensive Partnership, launched in 2010 on the occasion of Obama's visit to Jakarta, appears to have stalled somewhat?
A goodie bag to take home
To be sure, there were several low-hanging fruits. For starters, Jokowi secured $2.75 million in assistance to battle raging forest fires caused by slash-and-burn activities of both big corporations and local farmers seeking to clear land for palm oil, as well as pulp and paper plantations. Washington also committed to assist Jakarta in the development of maritime capabilities, in accordance with the latter's Global Maritime Fulcrum policy—a cornerstone of Jokowi's foreign policy agenda that aims to strengthen the country's maritime infrastructure and security apparatus.
Whether the meeting of minds on these issues will put U.S.-Indonesia relations back on track however, remains to be seen.
Much had been made of Indonesia's potential as a bulwark against religious extremism emanating from the Middle East today. Leaders in Washington have repeatedly affirmed Indonesia's credentials as a “tolerant” and “moderate” Muslim country. The number of Indonesian jihadis who have flocked to join the ranks of the Islamic State remains comparatively low (estimated at about 600 out of a Muslim population of 205 million) compared to Europeans and Australians. But although the Indonesian state has managed to control the numbers, there was little by way of substantive discussion during the meetings in Washington about how this was undertaken, beyond token celebratory references to the “Indonesian brand” of Islam.
Help to fight the forest fires—which are estimated to already have emitted 1.6 billion tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere—was doubtless welcomed. But without serious effort on Indonesia's part to tackle the root causes, American assistance amounts to little more than a band-aid. This was surely not lost on President Obama, with the Paris climate change talks looming.
Another major priority for Jokowi was positioning Indonesia (particularly rural Indonesia) as a market for digital products and partner for digital technology development. This reflects the president's personal interest in information technology and concern for the need to improve Indonesia's IT infrastructure, which he also stressed on his campaign trail a little over a year ago. The importance of this issue was demonstrated in Jokowi's original plan to visit Silicon Valley, including meetings with Apple and Google. That leg of the trip was eventually cancelled as the president hastened to return to Indonesia in response to the escalation of the forest fires. It is worth noting however, that bilateral trade between the U.S. and Indonesia in the digital sector reached $12 billion in 2014, without any government ...
President Joko Widodo of Indonesia, fondly known by the moniker “Jokowi” back home, seems to have accomplished quite a bit during his brief trip to Washington this week.
If Indonesian media reports are anything to go by, the ...

If Indonesian media reports are anything to go by, the much-anticipated meeting with President Barack Obama was nothing short of a meeting of doppelgangers. Both were youthful, relatively inexperienced politicians who were catapulted to power on the back of reform agendas. Both energized the respective electorates with their “can-do” persona. Both have had to deal with bizarre attempts to cast doubt on their religious affiliations—Obama was accused of being a closet Muslim while Jokowi was accused of being a closet Christian. To some, the two presidents even look alike. And of course, Obama himself had spent several years of his childhood growing up in Jakarta.

But sentimentality, nostalgia, and shared physical traits are probably not the firmest foundations upon which to build bilateral relations. So what did Jokowi’s trip achieve in terms of substantively advancing bilateral ties, particularly given how the U.S.-Indonesia Comprehensive Partnership, launched in 2010 on the occasion of Obama’s visit to Jakarta, appears to have stalled somewhat?

A goodie bag to take home

To be sure, there were several low-hanging fruits. For starters, Jokowi secured $2.75 million in assistance to battle raging forest fires caused by slash-and-burn activities of both big corporations and local farmers seeking to clear land for palm oil, as well as pulp and paper plantations. Washington also committed to assist Jakarta in the development of maritime capabilities, in accordance with the latter’s Global Maritime Fulcrum policy—a cornerstone of Jokowi’s foreign policy agenda that aims to strengthen the country’s maritime infrastructure and security apparatus.

Whether the meeting of minds on these issues will put U.S.-Indonesia relations back on track however, remains to be seen.

Much had been made of Indonesia’s potential as a bulwark against religious extremism emanating from the Middle East today. Leaders in Washington have repeatedly affirmed Indonesia’s credentials as a “tolerant” and “moderate” Muslim country. The number of Indonesian jihadis who have flocked to join the ranks of the Islamic State remains comparatively low (estimated at about 600 out of a Muslim population of 205 million) compared to Europeans and Australians. But although the Indonesian state has managed to control the numbers, there was little by way of substantive discussion during the meetings in Washington about how this was undertaken, beyond token celebratory references to the “Indonesian brand” of Islam.

Help to fight the forest fires—which are estimated to already have emitted 1.6 billion tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere—was doubtless welcomed. But without serious effort on Indonesia’s part to tackle the root causes, American assistance amounts to little more than a band-aid. This was surely not lost on President Obama, with the Paris climate change talks looming.

Another major priority for Jokowi was positioning Indonesia (particularly rural Indonesia) as a market for digital products and partner for digital technology development. This reflects the president’s personal interest in information technology and concern for the need to improve Indonesia’s IT infrastructure, which he also stressed on his campaign trail a little over a year ago. The importance of this issue was demonstrated in Jokowi’s original plan to visit Silicon Valley, including meetings with Apple and Google. That leg of the trip was eventually cancelled as the president hastened to return to Indonesia in response to the escalation of the forest fires. It is worth noting however, that bilateral trade between the U.S. and Indonesia in the digital sector reached $12 billion in 2014, without any government intervention.

Standing up in its own neighborhood

Operationalizing U.S. support for the Global Maritime Fulcrum policy is likely to be complex, particularly if it is related to American maritime interest in the region. President Jokowi, along with his foreign and defense ministers, reiterated Indonesia’s commitment to a maritime order based on international law and non-use of force. No doubt, these statements were welcomed in Washington circles, particularly given the climate of Chinese assertiveness.

But how far is Indonesia prepared to go to champion and defend that order? There is a crucial difference between Indonesia’s cautious position on China and Washington’s preference for Jakarta to take a stronger stand as ASEAN’s linchpin on the South China Sea disputes. At issue is the deepening economic ties between Indonesia and China—China Railway was recently awarded the on-again-off-again contract to build a $5.5 billion high-speed rail between Jakarta and Bandung—which prevents Jakarta from taking a strong stand against Chinese policy in the region. But Washington is looking to regional partners to also step up pressure on the Chinese.

Contradictory statements from Jakarta have added further confusion to Indonesia’s position on the South China Sea. Whereas Indonesia’s Western Fleet chief (Panglima Armada Barat), Rear Admiral Achmad Taufiqoerrochman, recently claimed Indonesian warships were on standby in the South China Sea in anticipation of heightened tension, Luhut Pandjaitan (Coordinating Minister for Political, Legal, and Security Affairs) has retorted that there will be no Indonesian military presence in the South China Sea. Defense Minister Ryamizard Ryacudu also suggested on the sidelines of the recent ASEAN-China defense ministers’ meeting that there was no need for non-claimants to be involved in the South China Sea if claimant states can de-escalate tensions.

From talk to walk

As the largest country in Southeast Asia, and the largest Muslim-majority democracy in the world, Indonesia is of great strategic importance to the United States—particularly given the challenges posed by the rise of China in Asia, and the threat of the Islamic State in the Middle East. Yet bilateral relations between Washington and Jakarta have not made significant progress in actualizing this potential. It remains to be seen if President Jokowi’s visit has injected much-needed impetus and urgency. On present evidence though, it does not appear that much headway has been made.

Authors

]]>
http://www.brookings.edu/blogs/brookings-now/posts/2015/10/president-joko-widodo-indonesia?rssid=indonesia{4C48AF34-8DFB-4C76-ADB8-036FF81F1A25}http://webfeeds.brookings.edu/~/120684715/0/brookingsrss/topics/indonesia~President-Joko-Widodo-of-Indonesia-on-the-South-China-Sea-the-environment-and-Islam-and-democracyPresident Joko Widodo of Indonesia on the South China Sea, the environment, and Islam and democracy

"Indonesia is not a party to the [South China Sea] dispute," said Indonesian President Joko Widodo in a forum at Brookings today, "but we have legitimate interests in peace and stability there." President Widodo spoke at the Alan and Jane Batkin International Leaders Forum and was hosted by the Center for East Asia Policy Studies.

In reference to the current tensions in the South China Sea between Chinese naval vessels and U.S. warships, President Widodo added that "We believe that the sea [is] a public good. We reject any attempt by any state to control and dominate the sea and turn it into an arena for strategy competition ... we need to talk closely to ensure good order at sea, prevent incidents, and ensure freedom of navigation." Watch his remarks on this point below:

Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: South China Sea code of conduct

President Widodo also spoke on environmental concerns, stating that, as a maritime nation, Indonesia "launched a major crackdown on illegal fishing." He also said that "we look forward to working with all the parties at the next COP21 meeting in Paris." Watch:

Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: Focus on the environment

Finally, the president of Indonesia described what he called "two important assets which stabilize and anchor our society." These are, he said, Islam and democracy. As the largest Muslim-majority country in the world, and the globe's third-largest democracy, "we are proud," he said, "that Islam in Indonesia plays an important role in consolidating democracy."

"Ours is a strongly moderate and tolerant form of Islam," he said. Watch the video:

Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: Islam and democracy

During his remarks, the president also reviewed progress on two reform challenges that his government has pursued: infrastructure programs and deregulation. Senior Fellow Richard Bush, director of the Center for East Asia Policy Studies, moderated questions following President Widodo's remarks. Rep. Brad Sherman (D-CA) delivered opening remarks.

Video

Authors

Fred Dews

Image Source: Paul Morigi

]]>
Tue, 27 Oct 2015 16:21:00 -0400Fred Dews
"Indonesia is not a party to the [South China Sea] dispute," said Indonesian President Joko Widodo in a forum at Brookings today, "but we have legitimate interests in peace and stability there." President Widodo spoke at the Alan and Jane Batkin International Leaders Forum and was hosted by the Center for East Asia Policy Studies. ________________________________________________________
Read Joseph Liow's analysis of Widodo's visit to D.C. and what he takes home to Indonesia________________________________________________________
In reference to the current tensions in the South China Sea between Chinese naval vessels and U.S. warships, President Widodo added that "We believe that the sea [is] a public good. We reject any attempt by any state to control and dominate the sea and turn it into an arena for strategy competition ... we need to talk closely to ensure good order at sea, prevent incidents, and ensure freedom of navigation." Watch his remarks on this point below:
Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: South China Sea code of conduct
President Widodo also spoke on environmental concerns, stating that, as a maritime nation, Indonesia "launched a major crackdown on illegal fishing." He also said that "we look forward to working with all the parties at the next COP21 meeting in Paris." Watch:
Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: Focus on the environment
Finally, the president of Indonesia described what he called "two important assets which stabilize and anchor our society." These are, he said, Islam and democracy. As the largest Muslim-majority country in the world, and the globe's third-largest democracy, "we are proud," he said, "that Islam in Indonesia plays an important role in consolidating democracy."
"Ours is a strongly moderate and tolerant form of Islam," he said. Watch the video:
Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: Islam and democracy
During his remarks, the president also reviewed progress on two reform challenges that his government has pursued: infrastructure programs and deregulation. Senior Fellow Richard Bush, director of the Center for East Asia Policy Studies, moderated questions following President Widodo's remarks. Rep. Brad Sherman (D-CA) delivered opening remarks.
More information about the event is available on the event's page.
And visit our topic page for Brookings experts' research and commentary on Indonesia.
Video
- Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: South China Sea code of conduct- Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: Focus on the environment- Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: Islam and democracy
Authors
- Fred Dews
Image Source: Paul Morigi"Indonesia is not a party to the [South China Sea] dispute," said Indonesian President Joko Widodo in a forum at Brookings today, "but we have legitimate interests in peace and stability there." President Widodo spoke at the

"Indonesia is not a party to the [South China Sea] dispute," said Indonesian President Joko Widodo in a forum at Brookings today, "but we have legitimate interests in peace and stability there." President Widodo spoke at the Alan and Jane Batkin International Leaders Forum and was hosted by the Center for East Asia Policy Studies.

In reference to the current tensions in the South China Sea between Chinese naval vessels and U.S. warships, President Widodo added that "We believe that the sea [is] a public good. We reject any attempt by any state to control and dominate the sea and turn it into an arena for strategy competition ... we need to talk closely to ensure good order at sea, prevent incidents, and ensure freedom of navigation." Watch his remarks on this point below:

Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: South China Sea code of conduct

President Widodo also spoke on environmental concerns, stating that, as a maritime nation, Indonesia "launched a major crackdown on illegal fishing." He also said that "we look forward to working with all the parties at the next COP21 meeting in Paris." Watch:

Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: Focus on the environment

Finally, the president of Indonesia described what he called "two important assets which stabilize and anchor our society." These are, he said, Islam and democracy. As the largest Muslim-majority country in the world, and the globe's third-largest democracy, "we are proud," he said, "that Islam in Indonesia plays an important role in consolidating democracy."

"Ours is a strongly moderate and tolerant form of Islam," he said. Watch the video:

Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: Islam and democracy

During his remarks, the president also reviewed progress on two reform challenges that his government has pursued: infrastructure programs and deregulation. Senior Fellow Richard Bush, director of the Center for East Asia Policy Studies, moderated questions following President Widodo's remarks. Rep. Brad Sherman (D-CA) delivered opening remarks.

Video

Authors

Fred Dews

Image Source: Paul Morigi

]]>
http://www.brookings.edu/events/2015/10/27-indonesia-president-joko-widodo?rssid=indonesia{D0F3A525-462A-4136-9547-8FB66E3869C9}http://webfeeds.brookings.edu/~/120509241/0/brookingsrss/topics/indonesia~Indonesia-in-the-changing-world-A-conversation-with-President-Joko-Widodo-of-IndonesiaIndonesia in the changing world: A conversation with President Joko Widodo of Indonesia

Event Information

On October 27, the Center for East Asia Policy Studies at Brookings hosted President Joko Widodo of Indonesia for a discussion on the role of Indonesia in the changing world, focusing on economic opportunities and reforms, geopolitics, ASEAN, and international commitments. Brookings President Strobe Talbott provided introductions and Congressman Brad Sherman of California delivered opening remarks. Director of the Center for East Asia Policy Studies Richard Bush moderated the discussion and concluded with his closing remarks.

President Widodo took office in October 2014, defeating his opponent through an unprecedented, volunteer-based campaign that called for government reforms. Previously, he served as the governor of Jakarta (2012-2014) and as the mayor of Surakarta (2005-2012).

Audio

Transcript

Event Materials

]]>
Tue, 27 Oct 2015 11:00:00 -0400http://7515766d70db9af98b83-7a8dffca7ab41e0acde077bdb93c9343.r43.cf1.rackcdn.com/151027_IndonesiaPres.mp3
Event Information
October 27, 2015
11:00 AM - 12:00 PM EDT
Falk Auditorium
Brookings Institution
1775 Massachusetts Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20036 An Alan and Jane Batkin International Leaders Forum
On October 27, the Center for East Asia Policy Studies at Brookings hosted President Joko Widodo of Indonesia for a discussion on the role of Indonesia in the changing world, focusing on economic opportunities and reforms, geopolitics, ASEAN, and international commitments. Brookings President Strobe Talbott provided introductions and Congressman Brad Sherman of California delivered opening remarks. Director of the Center for East Asia Policy Studies Richard Bush moderated the discussion and concluded with his closing remarks.
President Widodo took office in October 2014, defeating his opponent through an unprecedented, volunteer-based campaign that called for government reforms. Previously, he served as the governor of Jakarta (2012-2014) and as the mayor of Surakarta (2005-2012).
Video
- Indonesia in the changing world: A conversation with President Joko Widodo of Indonesia- Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: Focus on the environment- Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: Islam and democracy- Pres. Joko Widodo, Indonesia: South China Sea code of conduct
Audio
- Indonesia in the changing world: A conversation with President Joko Widodo of Indonesia
Transcript
- Uncorrected Transcript (.pdf)
Event Materials
- 20151027_indonesia_widodo_transcript
Event Information
October 27, 2015
11:00 AM - 12:00 PM EDT
Falk Auditorium
Brookings Institution
1775 Massachusetts Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20036 An Alan and Jane Batkin International Leaders Forum
On October 27, the Center for East Asia ...

Event Information

On October 27, the Center for East Asia Policy Studies at Brookings hosted President Joko Widodo of Indonesia for a discussion on the role of Indonesia in the changing world, focusing on economic opportunities and reforms, geopolitics, ASEAN, and international commitments. Brookings President Strobe Talbott provided introductions and Congressman Brad Sherman of California delivered opening remarks. Director of the Center for East Asia Policy Studies Richard Bush moderated the discussion and concluded with his closing remarks.

President Widodo took office in October 2014, defeating his opponent through an unprecedented, volunteer-based campaign that called for government reforms. Previously, he served as the governor of Jakarta (2012-2014) and as the mayor of Surakarta (2005-2012).

The first state visit of Indonesian President Joko Widodo to the United States on October 25-28, 2015, which coincides with the completion of his first year of presidency, has built expectations not only in the two countries but also in the broader Indo-Pacific region. The high-level visits from both sides during the last twelve months have laid out a broad set of common interests and mutual expectations. They have also highlighted issues that are limiting the scope of the U.S.-Indonesia partnership. These agendas and challenges, besides throwing light on the current dynamics of the U.S.-Indonesia relations, are likely to dominate President Jokowi’s visits and discussions in the U.S.

First, the forthcoming visit provides a critical avenue for the world’s sole superpower and an emerging Asian power to reassert their commitment to strengthening regional and global order and maintaining peace and stability in the Indo-Pacific region. The regional geopolitics currently exudes an acute sense of insecurity driven by multi-layered rivalries involving great, middle and small powers of the region. The regional instability and uncertainty has intensified with China’s island building exercise on a massive scale. The U.S. decision to navigate around these reclaimed islands has not provided any additional sense of security. Indonesia’s reported drift away from ASEAN has not helped the region either. The two countries are likely to reaffirm the normative component of their comprehensive partnership and advocate restraint and dialogue as the primary means of maintaining security in the South China Sea and region at large.

President Widodo’s visit offers an important opportunity to the two countries to recalibrate their five year-old partnership in the light of changing regional geopolitics and priorities of Jokowi’s Indonesia. For example, Indonesia’s decision to build its military capability and project its maritime power has shifted the focus to defense and security agendas. In this context, the presidential visit may involve an announcement of substantive bilateral defense and security cooperation in the areas of defense procurement, development of domestic defense industries, and collaboration over global traditional and non-traditional security issues, such as counter-terrorism and ISIS.

Maritime security tops the security agendas of the presidential visit. A wary Indonesia has sought U.S. assistance in three vital areas of building the Indonesian navy, fencing its maritime borders and developing an effective coastguard. A high-level delegation of the Indonesian coast guard team visited the U.S. Coast Guard Academy in September 2015. This visit provided Indonesia’s new-born coastguard an opportunity to get exposure to the operations of an experienced U.S. coast guard.

These discussions highlight Jokowi’s Indonesia’s preference for defense and security-related collaboration with the U.S. Indonesia’s selection of the U.S. as a preferred partner may alleviate Indonesian concerns toward the U.S. strategic presence in the region. The Jokowi visit is an important opportunity for the U.S. to build on this notion of preferred partnership.

Second, the forthcoming visit combines the two agendas of (a) developing Indonesia as a green and blue economy, and (b) building a bilateral momentum to advance the climate change agenda before the world leaders meet in Paris in November-December 2015. These two agendas are also personal favorites of the two presidents. While President Jokowi has launched a national campaign for developing Indonesia’s blue (maritime) economy, President Obama has launched a global campaign for a green economy. Indonesia has developed a dual image of being an active carbon emitter in Southeast Asia (with a recent haze problem in Sumatra and Kalimantan) and taking a proactive role in the multilateral forums in addressing the climate change problem.

Third, Indonesia’s President is visiting the U.S. in the background of his year-long struggle in drawing foreign investment and technology amidst a worsening macro-economic situation, an unfavorable domestic business climate and somewhat dysfunctional politics. Indonesian economy’s need for foreign investment has become more acute as the country’s economic growth has slowed down to less than 5 per cent, its stocks have lost a lot of market capital, its currency has plummeted by more than 10per cent and the value of Indonesia’s domestic saving has declined amidst inflationary pressure.

The Jokowi government has sought to introduce buoyancy into the economy by reshuffling the cabinet (August 2015) and taking several reform measures (September 2015). President Jokowi’s planned visits reportedly include meetings with business delegations and tech giants on both the east and west coast.

An important issue that has bedeviled the Jokowi government’s equations with international businesses is the growing domestic demand for local content requirements and offsets in international collaboration. Indonesian laws have mandated that international businesses’ investment should aim at, along with resource extraction, development of the country’s industrial capacities. Indonesia’s Energy Minister, Sudirman Said, refers to this position as the country’s demand for “fair share” in the foreign investment.

The presidential visit is happening in the background of prevailing uncertainty over the future of the business operations of the Freeport McMoran, an American company that has operated for many decades in Indonesia’s troubled region of West Papua. Indonesian government’s unwillingness to renew the existing licenses for resource extraction has put the government at odds with the international businesses. It might be prudent for both Indonesia and the U.S. to find a common ground on this prickly situation.

Fourth, the visit may also highlight how the scope of bilateral cooperation is hamstrung by a set of legal and constitutional constraints. For example, U.S. laws are very strict in terms of transfer of technology as a part of defense procurement. On the other hand, Indonesian legislation mandates provisions for technology transfer in the defense transaction. Similarly, limited resource base and funding opportunities of the U.S. EXIM bank and Indonesian economy restrict the scope of Indonesia-U.S. collaboration in infrastructure development.

Finally, both Indonesia and the U.S. have a wish list. For example, the U.S. would be happy if Indonesia decided to join the TPP (Trans-Pacific Partnership) negotiations. The Obama government would prefer Indonesia’s resumption of its proactive role in facilitating the ASEAN-China Code of Conduct in the South China Sea. On the other hand, the Indonesian wish list carries issues such as the U.S. joining the UNCLOS (United Nations Convention on the Law of the Seas) of 1982, lifting of embargo on the KOPASSUS (Indonesian strategic force), and technology transfer.

To conclude, the optics of the Indonesia-U.S. partnership are defined by (a) the complementarity of demands and services and (b) Indonesia’s balancing act between strategic convergence and independence. The first principle has intensified the level of Indonesia-U.S. strategic engagement. The second principle has led Indonesia to develop robust relationships with all major powers and advocate a stable multipolar regional order. Jakarta does not want to privilege its relations with one great power at the expense of its relations with other great powers. Indonesia is hedging; the U.S. is a suitor among others; and the pace of partnership would depend on the comfort level and priorities as spelled out by the Indonesian leadership.

Authors

Vibhanshu Shekhar

Image Source: Kevin Lamarque / Reuters

]]>
Wed, 21 Oct 2015 00:00:00 -0400Vibhanshu Shekhar
The first state visit of Indonesian President Joko Widodo to the United States on October 25-28, 2015, which coincides with the completion of his first year of presidency, has built expectations not only in the two countries but also in the broader Indo-Pacific region. The high-level visits from both sides during the last twelve months have laid out a broad set of common interests and mutual expectations. They have also highlighted issues that are limiting the scope of the U.S.-Indonesia partnership. These agendas and challenges, besides throwing light on the current dynamics of the U.S.-Indonesia relations, are likely to dominate President Jokowi's visits and discussions in the U.S.
First, the forthcoming visit provides a critical avenue for the world's sole superpower and an emerging Asian power to reassert their commitment to strengthening regional and global order and maintaining peace and stability in the Indo-Pacific region. The regional geopolitics currently exudes an acute sense of insecurity driven by multi-layered rivalries involving great, middle and small powers of the region. The regional instability and uncertainty has intensified with China's island building exercise on a massive scale. The U.S. decision to navigate around these reclaimed islands has not provided any additional sense of security. Indonesia's reported drift away from ASEAN has not helped the region either. The two countries are likely to reaffirm the normative component of their comprehensive partnership and advocate restraint and dialogue as the primary means of maintaining security in the South China Sea and region at large.
President Widodo's visit offers an important opportunity to the two countries to recalibrate their five year-old partnership in the light of changing regional geopolitics and priorities of Jokowi's Indonesia. For example, Indonesia's decision to build its military capability and project its maritime power has shifted the focus to defense and security agendas. In this context, the presidential visit may involve an announcement of substantive bilateral defense and security cooperation in the areas of defense procurement, development of domestic defense industries, and collaboration over global traditional and non-traditional security issues, such as counter-terrorism and ISIS.
Maritime security tops the security agendas of the presidential visit. A wary Indonesia has sought U.S. assistance in three vital areas of building the Indonesian navy, fencing its maritime borders and developing an effective coastguard. A high-level delegation of the Indonesian coast guard team visited the U.S. Coast Guard Academy in September 2015. This visit provided Indonesia's new-born coastguard an opportunity to get exposure to the operations of an experienced U.S. coast guard.
These discussions highlight Jokowi's Indonesia's preference for defense and security-related collaboration with the U.S. Indonesia's selection of the U.S. as a preferred partner may alleviate Indonesian concerns toward the U.S. strategic presence in the region. The Jokowi visit is an important opportunity for the U.S. to build on this notion of preferred partnership.
Second, the forthcoming visit combines the two agendas of (a) developing Indonesia as a green and blue economy, and (b) building a bilateral momentum to advance the climate change agenda before the world leaders meet in Paris in November-December 2015. These two agendas are also personal favorites of the two presidents. While President Jokowi has launched a national campaign for developing Indonesia's blue (maritime) economy, President Obama has launched a global campaign for a green economy. Indonesia has developed a dual image of being an active carbon emitter in Southeast Asia (with a recent haze problem in Sumatra and Kalimantan) and taking a proactive role in the multilateral forums in addressing the climate change problem.
Third, Indonesia's President is visiting the U.S. in the background ...
The first state visit of Indonesian President Joko Widodo to the United States on October 25-28, 2015, which coincides with the completion of his first year of presidency, has built expectations not only in the two countries but also in the ...

The first state visit of Indonesian President Joko Widodo to the United States on October 25-28, 2015, which coincides with the completion of his first year of presidency, has built expectations not only in the two countries but also in the broader Indo-Pacific region. The high-level visits from both sides during the last twelve months have laid out a broad set of common interests and mutual expectations. They have also highlighted issues that are limiting the scope of the U.S.-Indonesia partnership. These agendas and challenges, besides throwing light on the current dynamics of the U.S.-Indonesia relations, are likely to dominate President Jokowi’s visits and discussions in the U.S.

First, the forthcoming visit provides a critical avenue for the world’s sole superpower and an emerging Asian power to reassert their commitment to strengthening regional and global order and maintaining peace and stability in the Indo-Pacific region. The regional geopolitics currently exudes an acute sense of insecurity driven by multi-layered rivalries involving great, middle and small powers of the region. The regional instability and uncertainty has intensified with China’s island building exercise on a massive scale. The U.S. decision to navigate around these reclaimed islands has not provided any additional sense of security. Indonesia’s reported drift away from ASEAN has not helped the region either. The two countries are likely to reaffirm the normative component of their comprehensive partnership and advocate restraint and dialogue as the primary means of maintaining security in the South China Sea and region at large.

President Widodo’s visit offers an important opportunity to the two countries to recalibrate their five year-old partnership in the light of changing regional geopolitics and priorities of Jokowi’s Indonesia. For example, Indonesia’s decision to build its military capability and project its maritime power has shifted the focus to defense and security agendas. In this context, the presidential visit may involve an announcement of substantive bilateral defense and security cooperation in the areas of defense procurement, development of domestic defense industries, and collaboration over global traditional and non-traditional security issues, such as counter-terrorism and ISIS.

Maritime security tops the security agendas of the presidential visit. A wary Indonesia has sought U.S. assistance in three vital areas of building the Indonesian navy, fencing its maritime borders and developing an effective coastguard. A high-level delegation of the Indonesian coast guard team visited the U.S. Coast Guard Academy in September 2015. This visit provided Indonesia’s new-born coastguard an opportunity to get exposure to the operations of an experienced U.S. coast guard.

These discussions highlight Jokowi’s Indonesia’s preference for defense and security-related collaboration with the U.S. Indonesia’s selection of the U.S. as a preferred partner may alleviate Indonesian concerns toward the U.S. strategic presence in the region. The Jokowi visit is an important opportunity for the U.S. to build on this notion of preferred partnership.

Second, the forthcoming visit combines the two agendas of (a) developing Indonesia as a green and blue economy, and (b) building a bilateral momentum to advance the climate change agenda before the world leaders meet in Paris in November-December 2015. These two agendas are also personal favorites of the two presidents. While President Jokowi has launched a national campaign for developing Indonesia’s blue (maritime) economy, President Obama has launched a global campaign for a green economy. Indonesia has developed a dual image of being an active carbon emitter in Southeast Asia (with a recent haze problem in Sumatra and Kalimantan) and taking a proactive role in the multilateral forums in addressing the climate change problem.

Third, Indonesia’s President is visiting the U.S. in the background of his year-long struggle in drawing foreign investment and technology amidst a worsening macro-economic situation, an unfavorable domestic business climate and somewhat dysfunctional politics. Indonesian economy’s need for foreign investment has become more acute as the country’s economic growth has slowed down to less than 5 per cent, its stocks have lost a lot of market capital, its currency has plummeted by more than 10per cent and the value of Indonesia’s domestic saving has declined amidst inflationary pressure.

The Jokowi government has sought to introduce buoyancy into the economy by reshuffling the cabinet (August 2015) and taking several reform measures (September 2015). President Jokowi’s planned visits reportedly include meetings with business delegations and tech giants on both the east and west coast.

An important issue that has bedeviled the Jokowi government’s equations with international businesses is the growing domestic demand for local content requirements and offsets in international collaboration. Indonesian laws have mandated that international businesses’ investment should aim at, along with resource extraction, development of the country’s industrial capacities. Indonesia’s Energy Minister, Sudirman Said, refers to this position as the country’s demand for “fair share” in the foreign investment.

The presidential visit is happening in the background of prevailing uncertainty over the future of the business operations of the Freeport McMoran, an American company that has operated for many decades in Indonesia’s troubled region of West Papua. Indonesian government’s unwillingness to renew the existing licenses for resource extraction has put the government at odds with the international businesses. It might be prudent for both Indonesia and the U.S. to find a common ground on this prickly situation.

Fourth, the visit may also highlight how the scope of bilateral cooperation is hamstrung by a set of legal and constitutional constraints. For example, U.S. laws are very strict in terms of transfer of technology as a part of defense procurement. On the other hand, Indonesian legislation mandates provisions for technology transfer in the defense transaction. Similarly, limited resource base and funding opportunities of the U.S. EXIM bank and Indonesian economy restrict the scope of Indonesia-U.S. collaboration in infrastructure development.

Finally, both Indonesia and the U.S. have a wish list. For example, the U.S. would be happy if Indonesia decided to join the TPP (Trans-Pacific Partnership) negotiations. The Obama government would prefer Indonesia’s resumption of its proactive role in facilitating the ASEAN-China Code of Conduct in the South China Sea. On the other hand, the Indonesian wish list carries issues such as the U.S. joining the UNCLOS (United Nations Convention on the Law of the Seas) of 1982, lifting of embargo on the KOPASSUS (Indonesian strategic force), and technology transfer.

To conclude, the optics of the Indonesia-U.S. partnership are defined by (a) the complementarity of demands and services and (b) Indonesia’s balancing act between strategic convergence and independence. The first principle has intensified the level of Indonesia-U.S. strategic engagement. The second principle has led Indonesia to develop robust relationships with all major powers and advocate a stable multipolar regional order. Jakarta does not want to privilege its relations with one great power at the expense of its relations with other great powers. Indonesia is hedging; the U.S. is a suitor among others; and the pace of partnership would depend on the comfort level and priorities as spelled out by the Indonesian leadership.

Authors

Vibhanshu Shekhar

Image Source: Kevin Lamarque / Reuters

]]>
http://www.brookings.edu/research/opinions/2015/09/03-monarchy-modern-politics-southeast-asia-vatikiotis?rssid=indonesia{8A4A8F4D-78A5-4D77-9DE7-504E8F752CD1}http://webfeeds.brookings.edu/~/109674710/0/brookingsrss/topics/indonesia~Monarchy-and-modern-politics-in-Southeast-AsiaMonarchy and modern politics in Southeast Asia

Monarchy has thrived in five countries of Southeast Asia, blending traditions of kingship from the pre-colonial era with modern forms of constitutional rule. Brunei, Thailand, Malaysia, and Cambodia have monarchs as titular heads of state; Indonesia uniquely has forms of monarchy that thrive in a republican context at the regional level. These two traditions of monarchy, one archaic and the other modern, coexist uneasily—especially in times of stress, whether because of succession or political instability. Therefore, to understand the dynamics of political stability in Thailand and Malaysia, the role of monarchs cannot be ignored.

The end of the colonial era in Southeast Asia was marked by the adoption, for the most part, of modern forms of statehood modeled on the democracies of the departing colonial rulers. Thailand was never colonized, but its monarchy modernized in response to pressure for democratic reform and adopted forms of government that established limits on its power. The nine traditional rulers of the Malay states that constituted the core of the new federation of Malaysia were enshrined as keepers of Malay tradition and defenders of Islam as the federal division of powers evolved. One of their number serves as the Malaysian king or Yang di-Pertuan Agong on a revolving basis.

Cambodia's King Norodom Sihanouk was both traditional ruler and modern nationalist, leading his country to independence from France in 1953, before abdicating to go into politics. In much the same way, the sultan of Yogyakarta assisted in the establishment of the Indonesian republic, served for a period as vice president, and won the preservation of his realm as a special administrative area that his son and heir still governs.

In all cases, the surviving monarchies of Southeast Asia have power and influence that potentially or in reality exceed that described in constitutional terms. This has come about chiefly because of the continuity of the archaic sacred and cultural symbolism of monarchy, which the monarchs themselves have cleverly perpetuated—as well as the patronage derived from their considerable wealth.

Perhaps the most successful monarchy is in Thailand, where King Bhumibol Adulyadej, 87, is not only the longest reigning monarch in the world, but has acquired a revered status among his subjects—albeit underpinned by strong lese majeste laws that involve severe punishment for criticism of the monarchy.

It is important to recall that the throne Bhumibol inherited at the end of the Pacific war was much weaker than it is today. The absolute monarchy ended after a coup led by democratic reform-minded civilians and military officers in 1932. Some scholars argue they were more concerned about protecting Siam, as it was called then, from colonial depredations, than liberating the Thai people. In reality, what followed was a long period of military-backed strongman rule. On ascending the throne in 1946, in the shadow of his brother Ananda Mahidol’s mysterious death, Bhumibol essentially reinvented the monarchy as the core of the Thai state and extended its influence across vast areas of the country's society and development infrastructure.

Along with the influence of the palace, there grew concentric circles of power and patronage. The military developed a powerful base around protection of the palace, and the Crown Property Bureau became an important source of wealth and investment. All of this made the Thai monarchy by the 1980s the most important and powerful institution in the land.

So when politicians clashed with one another or military factions competed, the king played arbiter and headed off conflict. This was most visibly demonstrated in 1992, when Bhumibol was seen on television urging the military to reconcile with civilian forces after days of violent demonstrations that saw troops open fire on students. In later years, Bhumibol used closely watched annual public addresses to advise his subjects on issues such as the rule of law and democracy. Some would argue that his public endorsement of the use of the courts emboldened the judges and paved the way for a number of rulings that affected the course of Thailand's political development in the past decade.

Contemporary political conflict in Thailand is seen as pitting the courtly conservative establishment against a populist movement led by political figures who are associated with left-wing movements that the palace establishment opposed and which were brutally crushed by the army in the 1970s. Thus the monarchy has in effect been dragged into the political conflict, which has resulted in a sharp increase in the number of lese majeste cases. This is almost certainly less about the king himself, who has been ill and withdrawn from public life for some years, and more about elite maneuvering around the succession.

The prospective end of Bhumibol's spectacularly long and successful reign has generated anxiety in Thai society, and is a major factor prolonging the tenure of a military-led government in power since May 2014. Even if elections are held, as promised in 2016, the military is set to control the levers of power under a new constitution. Elite concern centers on the immediate aftermath of succession that will inevitably lead to a reordering of power relationships around the palace and could generate further conflict. Although nothing can be stated publicly, people engage in subtle messaging using the favorite colors of each member of the royal family, such as blue for Queen Sirikit or mauve for Crown Princess Sirindhorn.

Malaysia's rulers have also been dragged into politics of late. As in Thailand, the rulers are regarded as the pinnacle of the establishment—in this case, majority Malay society—and therefore are imbued with the role of arbiter in times of stress and conflict. Constitutionally, the Malay rulers are above politics but play a limited role in political matters, through the Conference of Rulers. The main function of this body is to elect the Yang di-Pertuan Agong once every five years, but it also notionally has a role in safeguarding the constitution when it comes to Malay rights and privileges.

In the past, there were rumblings in ruler circles about matters such as the imposition of Islamic criminal "hudud" law, or the degree to which the government limited freedoms. As political tensions have risen over a financial scandal that has implicated Prime Minister Najib Razak, the rulers have stepped up their muted expressions of concern about unity and stability.

Concern was expressed at the Conference of Rulers in mid-2015 over the need to safeguard moderation, whilst the well-regarded and popular sultan of Perak, Nazrin Shah, has often spoken out about the need to foster a culture of tolerance in Islam and respect differences of opinion for the sake of unity. But the recent interventions by some rulers have taken many by surprise because it has involved the assertion of views spread via social media, which calls into question whether the Malay rulers can stay above politics when the country faces a political crisis.

In August this year, Johor Sultan Ibrahim Ibni Almarhum Sultan Iskandar made a public statement advising the prime minister to pay more attention to the value of the currency, which has plumbed 18-year lows in value. In what could be taken as a strong rebuke infringing on political issues, the sultan said: "I would also like to remind representatives elected by the people to shoulder public responsibilities entrusted to them, and to set aside personal interests." The young crown prince of Johor, Tunku Ismail Sultan Ibrahim, has more boldly used social media to express concerns about the current situation in Malaysia. And as tens of thousands of people gathered in downtown Kuala Lumpur to protest against the government at the end of August, banners appeared quoting the Johor Sultan’s speech. Ironically, the color yellow chosen by the Bersih protest movement, a movement for clean and fair elections, is the traditional color of Malay royalty.

In both Thailand and Malaysia, protracted political uncertainty and instability have dragged the monarchy into politics primarily because it remains an institution of considerable power and influence despite constitutional limitations. The effect, however, is a double-edged sword. On the one hand it allows people in situations where freedom of expression is limited to have their grievances aired, as in the case of Malaysia. But as the case of Thailand shows, the power of patronage and legal sanction protecting the throne can also act as a considerable obstacle to free speech. In early August, a Thai man was jailed for 30 years for allegedly insulting the monarchy on Facebook.

Either way, in the current context it is hard to conclude that monarchy is a fundamentally weak player in the Southeast Asian political spectrum. Ideally, many people would still welcome the monarchy’s role as arbiter in times of political stress or crisis—such as when the current king of Cambodia sought to broker an agreement between the government led by Prime Minister Hun Sen and the opposition in 2014. But the reality is that protective power and patronage flows from the apex of society in Southeast Asia, and monarchs, no matter how virtuous or above politics they appear to be, can do little to deter the manipulation of their authority without damaging their own prospects for survival. Equally, the more effective the manipulation, the more sullied the throne becomes.

Authors

Michael Vatikiotis

Image Source: Chaiwat Subprasom / Reuters

]]>
Thu, 03 Sep 2015 00:00:00 -0400Michael Vatikiotis
Monarchy has thrived in five countries of Southeast Asia, blending traditions of kingship from the pre-colonial era with modern forms of constitutional rule. Brunei, Thailand, Malaysia, and Cambodia have monarchs as titular heads of state; Indonesia uniquely has forms of monarchy that thrive in a republican context at the regional level. These two traditions of monarchy, one archaic and the other modern, coexist uneasily—especially in times of stress, whether because of succession or political instability. Therefore, to understand the dynamics of political stability in Thailand and Malaysia, the role of monarchs cannot be ignored.
The end of the colonial era in Southeast Asia was marked by the adoption, for the most part, of modern forms of statehood modeled on the democracies of the departing colonial rulers. Thailand was never colonized, but its monarchy modernized in response to pressure for democratic reform and adopted forms of government that established limits on its power. The nine traditional rulers of the Malay states that constituted the core of the new federation of Malaysia were enshrined as keepers of Malay tradition and defenders of Islam as the federal division of powers evolved. One of their number serves as the Malaysian king or Yang di-Pertuan Agong on a revolving basis.
Cambodia's King Norodom Sihanouk was both traditional ruler and modern nationalist, leading his country to independence from France in 1953, before abdicating to go into politics. In much the same way, the sultan of Yogyakarta assisted in the establishment of the Indonesian republic, served for a period as vice president, and won the preservation of his realm as a special administrative area that his son and heir still governs.
In all cases, the surviving monarchies of Southeast Asia have power and influence that potentially or in reality exceed that described in constitutional terms. This has come about chiefly because of the continuity of the archaic sacred and cultural symbolism of monarchy, which the monarchs themselves have cleverly perpetuated—as well as the patronage derived from their considerable wealth.
Perhaps the most successful monarchy is in Thailand, where King Bhumibol Adulyadej, 87, is not only the longest reigning monarch in the world, but has acquired a revered status among his subjects—albeit underpinned by strong lese majeste laws that involve severe punishment for criticism of the monarchy.
It is important to recall that the throne Bhumibol inherited at the end of the Pacific war was much weaker than it is today. The absolute monarchy ended after a coup led by democratic reform-minded civilians and military officers in 1932. Some scholars argue they were more concerned about protecting Siam, as it was called then, from colonial depredations, than liberating the Thai people. In reality, what followed was a long period of military-backed strongman rule. On ascending the throne in 1946, in the shadow of his brother Ananda Mahidol's mysterious death, Bhumibol essentially reinvented the monarchy as the core of the Thai state and extended its influence across vast areas of the country's society and development infrastructure.
Along with the influence of the palace, there grew concentric circles of power and patronage. The military developed a powerful base around protection of the palace, and the Crown Property Bureau became an important source of wealth and investment. All of this made the Thai monarchy by the 1980s the most important and powerful institution in the land.
So when politicians clashed with one another or military factions competed, the king played arbiter and headed off conflict. This was most visibly demonstrated in 1992, when Bhumibol was seen on television urging the military to reconcile with civilian forces after days of violent demonstrations that saw troops open fire on students. In later years, Bhumibol used closely watched annual public addresses to advise ...
Monarchy has thrived in five countries of Southeast Asia, blending traditions of kingship from the pre-colonial era with modern forms of constitutional rule. Brunei, Thailand, Malaysia, and Cambodia have monarchs as titular heads of state;

Monarchy has thrived in five countries of Southeast Asia, blending traditions of kingship from the pre-colonial era with modern forms of constitutional rule. Brunei, Thailand, Malaysia, and Cambodia have monarchs as titular heads of state; Indonesia uniquely has forms of monarchy that thrive in a republican context at the regional level. These two traditions of monarchy, one archaic and the other modern, coexist uneasily—especially in times of stress, whether because of succession or political instability. Therefore, to understand the dynamics of political stability in Thailand and Malaysia, the role of monarchs cannot be ignored.

The end of the colonial era in Southeast Asia was marked by the adoption, for the most part, of modern forms of statehood modeled on the democracies of the departing colonial rulers. Thailand was never colonized, but its monarchy modernized in response to pressure for democratic reform and adopted forms of government that established limits on its power. The nine traditional rulers of the Malay states that constituted the core of the new federation of Malaysia were enshrined as keepers of Malay tradition and defenders of Islam as the federal division of powers evolved. One of their number serves as the Malaysian king or Yang di-Pertuan Agong on a revolving basis.

Cambodia's King Norodom Sihanouk was both traditional ruler and modern nationalist, leading his country to independence from France in 1953, before abdicating to go into politics. In much the same way, the sultan of Yogyakarta assisted in the establishment of the Indonesian republic, served for a period as vice president, and won the preservation of his realm as a special administrative area that his son and heir still governs.

In all cases, the surviving monarchies of Southeast Asia have power and influence that potentially or in reality exceed that described in constitutional terms. This has come about chiefly because of the continuity of the archaic sacred and cultural symbolism of monarchy, which the monarchs themselves have cleverly perpetuated—as well as the patronage derived from their considerable wealth.

Perhaps the most successful monarchy is in Thailand, where King Bhumibol Adulyadej, 87, is not only the longest reigning monarch in the world, but has acquired a revered status among his subjects—albeit underpinned by strong lese majeste laws that involve severe punishment for criticism of the monarchy.

It is important to recall that the throne Bhumibol inherited at the end of the Pacific war was much weaker than it is today. The absolute monarchy ended after a coup led by democratic reform-minded civilians and military officers in 1932. Some scholars argue they were more concerned about protecting Siam, as it was called then, from colonial depredations, than liberating the Thai people. In reality, what followed was a long period of military-backed strongman rule. On ascending the throne in 1946, in the shadow of his brother Ananda Mahidol’s mysterious death, Bhumibol essentially reinvented the monarchy as the core of the Thai state and extended its influence across vast areas of the country's society and development infrastructure.

Along with the influence of the palace, there grew concentric circles of power and patronage. The military developed a powerful base around protection of the palace, and the Crown Property Bureau became an important source of wealth and investment. All of this made the Thai monarchy by the 1980s the most important and powerful institution in the land.

So when politicians clashed with one another or military factions competed, the king played arbiter and headed off conflict. This was most visibly demonstrated in 1992, when Bhumibol was seen on television urging the military to reconcile with civilian forces after days of violent demonstrations that saw troops open fire on students. In later years, Bhumibol used closely watched annual public addresses to advise his subjects on issues such as the rule of law and democracy. Some would argue that his public endorsement of the use of the courts emboldened the judges and paved the way for a number of rulings that affected the course of Thailand's political development in the past decade.

Contemporary political conflict in Thailand is seen as pitting the courtly conservative establishment against a populist movement led by political figures who are associated with left-wing movements that the palace establishment opposed and which were brutally crushed by the army in the 1970s. Thus the monarchy has in effect been dragged into the political conflict, which has resulted in a sharp increase in the number of lese majeste cases. This is almost certainly less about the king himself, who has been ill and withdrawn from public life for some years, and more about elite maneuvering around the succession.

The prospective end of Bhumibol's spectacularly long and successful reign has generated anxiety in Thai society, and is a major factor prolonging the tenure of a military-led government in power since May 2014. Even if elections are held, as promised in 2016, the military is set to control the levers of power under a new constitution. Elite concern centers on the immediate aftermath of succession that will inevitably lead to a reordering of power relationships around the palace and could generate further conflict. Although nothing can be stated publicly, people engage in subtle messaging using the favorite colors of each member of the royal family, such as blue for Queen Sirikit or mauve for Crown Princess Sirindhorn.

Malaysia's rulers have also been dragged into politics of late. As in Thailand, the rulers are regarded as the pinnacle of the establishment—in this case, majority Malay society—and therefore are imbued with the role of arbiter in times of stress and conflict. Constitutionally, the Malay rulers are above politics but play a limited role in political matters, through the Conference of Rulers. The main function of this body is to elect the Yang di-Pertuan Agong once every five years, but it also notionally has a role in safeguarding the constitution when it comes to Malay rights and privileges.

In the past, there were rumblings in ruler circles about matters such as the imposition of Islamic criminal "hudud" law, or the degree to which the government limited freedoms. As political tensions have risen over a financial scandal that has implicated Prime Minister Najib Razak, the rulers have stepped up their muted expressions of concern about unity and stability.

Concern was expressed at the Conference of Rulers in mid-2015 over the need to safeguard moderation, whilst the well-regarded and popular sultan of Perak, Nazrin Shah, has often spoken out about the need to foster a culture of tolerance in Islam and respect differences of opinion for the sake of unity. But the recent interventions by some rulers have taken many by surprise because it has involved the assertion of views spread via social media, which calls into question whether the Malay rulers can stay above politics when the country faces a political crisis.

In August this year, Johor Sultan Ibrahim Ibni Almarhum Sultan Iskandar made a public statement advising the prime minister to pay more attention to the value of the currency, which has plumbed 18-year lows in value. In what could be taken as a strong rebuke infringing on political issues, the sultan said: "I would also like to remind representatives elected by the people to shoulder public responsibilities entrusted to them, and to set aside personal interests." The young crown prince of Johor, Tunku Ismail Sultan Ibrahim, has more boldly used social media to express concerns about the current situation in Malaysia. And as tens of thousands of people gathered in downtown Kuala Lumpur to protest against the government at the end of August, banners appeared quoting the Johor Sultan’s speech. Ironically, the color yellow chosen by the Bersih protest movement, a movement for clean and fair elections, is the traditional color of Malay royalty.

In both Thailand and Malaysia, protracted political uncertainty and instability have dragged the monarchy into politics primarily because it remains an institution of considerable power and influence despite constitutional limitations. The effect, however, is a double-edged sword. On the one hand it allows people in situations where freedom of expression is limited to have their grievances aired, as in the case of Malaysia. But as the case of Thailand shows, the power of patronage and legal sanction protecting the throne can also act as a considerable obstacle to free speech. In early August, a Thai man was jailed for 30 years for allegedly insulting the monarchy on Facebook.

Either way, in the current context it is hard to conclude that monarchy is a fundamentally weak player in the Southeast Asian political spectrum. Ideally, many people would still welcome the monarchy’s role as arbiter in times of political stress or crisis—such as when the current king of Cambodia sought to broker an agreement between the government led by Prime Minister Hun Sen and the opposition in 2014. But the reality is that protective power and patronage flows from the apex of society in Southeast Asia, and monarchs, no matter how virtuous or above politics they appear to be, can do little to deter the manipulation of their authority without damaging their own prospects for survival. Equally, the more effective the manipulation, the more sullied the throne becomes.